Amegakure Chunin Exam: Jiraiya's Successors
by ReadyFred-ReadyGeorge
Summary: When the Hidden Rain hosts a chunin exam, Jiraiya enters his genin squad: Minato Namikaze, Toshiro Hyuuga and Kushina Uzumaki, little does the Sanin know that the event will re-acquaint him with three very familiar faces.  rated T just to be safe
1. Chapter 1: Of Leaf and Rain

_This fanfic is dedicated to 'Sara-Beara-Pumpkin' and 'bunnygirl64' for your helpful instantaneous reviews of 'The Cure for Nightmares. The fanfic was on the site less than a day before I got your emails, thanks so much! My friends don't believe me when I tell them Americans are brilliant, now I have proof! :D_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, but I do own my OC: Toshiro Hyuuga. Besides him, all credit goes to Mashashi Kishimoto-sama, and his ability to think up a new unforeseen plot point/deus-ex-machina every five minutes!_

Chapter 1: Of Leaf and Rain.

'Jiraiya-sensei' began Toshiro for the umpteenth time that afternoon 'are we there yet?' Jiraiya rolled his eyes skyward and chuckled heartily, patting his student on the head, before thoroughly roughing up the boy's jet black hair. The Sanin was spared the necessity of replying to Toshiro's comment when the latter received a rather hard punch in the arm from the irate Kunoichi next to him.

'Oww, Kushina? What the heck was that for?'

'Toshiro Hyuuga, how many times have I told you to stop asking stupid questions?' snarled Kushina at her team mate. Jiraiya made a mental note to never...ever annoy an Uzumaki, especially not a female one. 'I thought your clan didn't raise morons?' she finished with a contemptuous pout. At this point, Jiraiya interjected himself, rather than have to listen to his squad bicker themselves half to death.

'Alright, Jeez, settle down!' He huffed, forcing himself in between the two genin, 'Kushina, you'll have plenty of opportunity to vent your incredible levels of aggression out when we get to Ame.' As the red-haired Kunoichi nodded glumly, fists unfurling into her usual gentle hands, the sage rounded on the other offender; 'And Toshiro, if you want to know exactly how far we are away, you could always use your Byakugan, rather than ask again and have Kushina beat you to death.' Toshiro turned pink and nodded in embarrassment, falling into a slow step with Kushina and mumbling an incoherent apology that carried itself away on the wind.

The matter settled; Jiraiya turned his thoughts to their destination. It had been more than five years since he had last seen the Hidden Rain Village, Five years since he had said goodbye to Yahiko, Nagato and Konan. The toad sage mused on whether he'd see his students again, or what the reunion would be like. He allowed himself a private chuckle as he imagined Yahiko screwing up his face and pretending he wasn't interested, his eyes completely giving away just how much he wanted to bear hug his old teacher. He thought of gentle Konan, who would create a bunch of beautiful origami flowers from nothing, a spectacle worthy of the greatest of artists, and she'd be modest as hell and claim it wasn't anything special, smiling that soft, precious smile of hers. But it was Nagato who was at the forefront of Jiraiya's mind as his feet carried him towards the place he had called home for several years. Nagato, the boy had such amazing talent at everything he turned a hand to trying, an instant aptitude for everything and anything, in some cases more so than Jiraiya himself. The boy who held all that potential, and still hid an abundance of insecurities. Nagato would probably knock Yahiko over in his rush to embrace Jiraiya, not caring about the ginger boy rolling around in the mud behind him, spouting profanity, like a foul mouthed hyena. Jiraiya didn't often let himself get washed away in memory, but the orphans of the hidden rain, that was the exception to the rule.

'Jiraiya sensei, Minato-kun is on his way back.'

The sage was snapped out of his revere by Toshiro once again. The latest Hyuuga genin was, judging by the pronounced veins on his temples, in full Byakugan mode, tracing the final member of Team Jiraiya.

'How long until he gets back?' inquired the Sanin, cocking an eyebrow.

Toshiro grinned 'Three seconds.'

True to form, Minato appeared out of nowhere precisely 2.9 seconds later next to Jiraiya. The blonde genin ruffled his unruly hair, and high-fived Toshiro, before turning to his teacher, beaming like a five year old at Christmas.

'You can see the Hidden Rain from atop the next hill Sensei; we should be there by Sundown.' Reported Minato, somewhat breathless, His newly invented 'Flying Thunder God' technique having taken quite a strain on him. Kushina rolled her eyes and muttered something that sounded distinctly, to Jiraiya's honed ears, like '_that's what you get for showing off'_

Minato had clearly not heard this comment and winked saucily at Kushina, earning himself a punch in the shoulder from the hair-trigger Kunoichi.

'Good Work Minato.' Interjected Jiraiya, not wanting a repeat of Kushina's incident with Toshiro. The Jonin patted his foremost pupil on the head and spurred his squad forwards, Minato jogging ten paces ahead of everyone in excitement. Had it been any other person, Jiraiya would have advised they slow down and save their energy for what was to come, not Minato however. This particular genin either had the worst case of ADHD known to mankind, or he was just permanently buzzed about something. He never stopped moving, and never ran out of energy! Jiraiya permitted himself a smile at just how much Minato reminded him of himself. The Sanin had no doubt that his pupil could sprint to the Hidden Rain from anywhere in the world, and still be able to take the upcoming event in his stride.

'Come on Slowcoaches!' called the aforementioned blonde ninja, 'We've got a Chunin exam to get to!'

'Yahiko, catching your death of cold does NOT constitute preparing for the Chunin Exam!' chuckled Konan, as she placed a towel around her teammate's soaked shoulders. She had caught the ginger shinobi practiscing his kendo techniques on the roof of their apartment building, the rain had been torrential, bad even by Amegakure's standards. Yahiko murmured a reply, doing his utmost to stop his teeth chattering.

'W-w-we're rain n-n-ninja, we should b-b-be used to this...'

Konan hushed him, placing her left forefinger on his lips, giggling inwardly as she watched his face go redder than Nagato's hair at her soft touch.

'You're also human, and not immune to the effects of bad weather,' he turned his head away and sulked. She put an arm around his shoulder's and pulled him close to her, whispering in his ear; her voice soft and reassuring, like an early spring breeze at the end of winter.

'One day, you'll be the god that our country needs Yahiko,' she couldn't see his face, but she could feel the muscles in his cheek relax against her, as his frown softened. 'Until then, try not to be your usual idiotic self.' She felt the vibrations against her face a moment faster than she heard his light-hearted chuckle. She untangled her arm from around him and looked him in the eyes, deep blue, like the rain she'd found him in.

'You always know how to solve my problems Konan.' There was so much else he wanted to tell her, but now was not the time. Especially since Yahiko could feel Nagato's chakra approaching from down the corridor. Yahiko had just enough time to pick himself up off of the floor and rub his hair quickly with the towel, before their scarlet haired friend entered the bedroom.

Konan was the first to pick up that something was wrong. Nagato's Rinnegan eyes could seem cold and haughty to those who did not know him well. Only Konan, and to a slightly lesser extent Yahiko could really see the emotion within the swirling violet rings. Something was clearly troubling their comrade, his eyes seemed heavy lidded, like he he'd been awake most of the night, and they were slightly glassy, indicating something was at the forefront of his mind and consciousness.

'Nagato? What's the matter?' said Konan, taking the Shinobi's hands in her own, snapping Nagato out of his reviere.

'I keep getting this feeling...' he began, unsteadily. His voice trembling, utterly out of character with his usual calm self, 'I keep getting these flashes of approaching chakra, so familiar...' he trailed off, and Konan had to shake him a little to bring him back to the present. Taking a breath, he carried on.

'I keep telling myself it's nothing, and I'm just sensing the other Ninja coming here for the Chunin exam, basically that my mind's playing tricks on me...but this last flash, was so close it practically burned. I can't be imagining it this time, I just can't! It's him...' Nagato whispered the last syllable so quietly that his friends had trouble hearing it, even from only a few paces away.

'Nagato, who is it?' Inquired Yahiko, his hand on the hilt of his sword, drawing it an inch from its hilt, ready to leap into action if the enemy were close. The trio were no strangers to attack, and neither was Yahiko's favourite weapon. The ginger Shinobi was always prepared to be attacked, it came from living rough for so many years. Rarely did anything good give his best friend such a shock, and more often than not, such things made them fight their way out of a tight corner, usually outnumbered. But Nagato's words made Yahiko's grip go numb.

'Jiraiya sensei...he's coming back...'

Alright, chapter 1 finished. Chapter 2 will cover the reunion of Jiraiya with his students, and the meeting of the two squads, but as to the challenges of the Chunin exam itself, that's where I need your input, to stave off my writers block, rest assured I have a few good ideas up my creative sleeves though, I'm not a total idiot, just a 60% idiot :D

Please, please, please review, and share your ideas with me!


	2. Chapter 2: The Opening Ceremony

Chapter 2: The Opening Ceremony.

The central square of the Village Hidden in the Rain was as crowded as it had ever been in the village's history. Every square inch had been taken up by spectators, family members of contestants, distant relations, but more importantly, more than 100 Genin and their sensei, eagerly awaiting the official opening of the Amegakure Chunin Exams. The smell was horrible, the heat was unbearable; made worse by the perpetual humid musk of the rain, the lack of space was practically lethal. But the atmosphere was electric. Every eye was on the central podium, where Hanzo of the Salamander was to make his entrance and every heart was in overdrive, beating furiously against their owners' chests, like animals forcing themselves out of their cages.

'I wish he'd hurry the hell up already!' Growled Yahiko, irritated at the fact that his squad had been one of the first to arrive in the square, more than four hours previously. Nagato, Konan and himself had watched with animalistic eagerness as the other squad's had filed in, soaking up everything about them, anything that would be of use later:

The ones of most interest had been the only squad to arrive before them: Three male ninja in their late teens from the Hidden Mist Village; A boy who hid most of his face behind a tan mask, leaving only his eyes visible. Yahiko shuddered at the memory, the boy's eyes were cold and laden with malice, eyes that had seen death, and lots of it. His comrade on his left was, by contrast, more fair in appearance. He had straightened silvery hair that fell to his shoulders, and blue eyes that could have been a mirror of Yahiko's own. The boy had spiked teeth, like a piranha, but mixed with his soft eyes and hair, gave him an altogether playful appearance. The final member of the Kirigakure squad was easily the strangest. He was at least a head taller than his comrades, who stood at equal height to one another. He had deep blue hair and teal skin, lined with gills on his cheeks. He looked like a walking shark, and had the mouth to match, every tooth in his mouth could have ripped a man in twain. Yahiko wondered if they ever had, it seemed likely. All three of the Shinobi carried swords slung across their backs. Yahiko had gripped the hilt of his own so tight that his knuckles nearly bled. The Middle Swordsman, the one with the playful face, had seen Yahiko's team observing them, and had walked over. Obviously he was the social face of the Mist squad, the other two definitely did not seem like talkative types. The silver haired kendo warrior had introduced himself as Mangetsu Hozuki, and his teammates as Zabuza Momochi and Kisame Hoshigaki. He'd wished them all luck in the exam, and said he looked foreward to competing against Yahiko, as he put it, smiling a grin that would have scared a lesser man out of his mind; 'blade to blade.' Yahiko had agreed, but could not say that answer stretched to Mangetsu's teammates. The ginger boy had no wish to be turned into strips of fleshy meat.

One by one, more Shinobi had filed into the square, ninja from every corner of the world, almost ever village: Mist, Rain, Grass, Waterfall, Rock, Sand ...and the Leaf. Every time Nagato spied a Leaf headband his heart skipped a beat. He saw Jiraiya's face everywhere, yet nowhere. The scarlet haired Genin was going half mad with anticipation. Four hours of relentless observation, and still no sign of the Sanin. The chakra flow was unmistakable, there was no way Nagato was imagining this one. Coming to the conclusion that Jiraiya must be elsewhere in the Village, Nagato returned his attention to the central Podium in the square, along with his teammates, whilst trying to suppress images of his old sensei peeping in the hot springs. _Where else would he be?_ Nagato thought, resignedly.

'Nagato, Konan, it's starting!' Nagato made a forced exodus from his train of thought at Yahiko's excited proclamation. The central podium had seemingly caught fire, a huge torrent of flame erupted from the ground, white hot and blinding to behold, like the summer sun concentrated into one spot. Nagato felt himself rummaging for a kunai or shuriken in the holster on his leg, battle reflexes kicking in on auto-pilot. But then the flames cleared.

Out of the raging fire stood a man, tall, with flowing silver hair emanating from behind a rebreather mask. He wore armour of sapphire blue, that seemed to shimmer in the light of the flames, like sunlight through Amegakure's perpetual storm. As he lifted his gloved hands high above his head, as though conducting an orchestra, the flames began again, short snappy bursts of pyrotechnics around the podium, ringing the man in white fire. It was a spectacle worthy of such an international event. Hanzo of the Salamander had made his entrance.

_Fifteen Minutes earlier._

'But Jiraiya-sensei...why won't you come with us?' begged Minato, doing his very best puppy dog eyes. This had no real effect other than earning the genin a punch in the gut from Kushina. Jiraiya chucked heartily and stepped between them, resting a hand on Minato's head in a fatherly way.

'Because I came here to see you all succeed in the exam, not to see Hanzo show off.' Was the Sanin's reply. _I lost too many friends to that creep to want to see him make a spectacle of himself _he added inwardly, barely concealing a grimace. The day that Hanzo had slaughtered Jiriaya, Tsunade and Orochimaru's platoon during the Second great war, was burned into Jiraiya's mind.

'What he means is he wants to go perv on the ladies in the bathhouses!' intoned Toshiro sarcastically, cocking a suggestive eyebrow at his teacher, making the latter go bright red and receive a punch somewhere very painful from Kushina. With watering eyes, and a somewhat higher pitched voice than usual, he wished his Students a good time at the opening ceremony, and vanished in a puff of smoke, rather than receive further punishment.

'Oh well, come on guys, it'll be starting any minute' called Minato, already hurrying down the thoroughfare to the central square. Kushina and Toshiro set off after him, struggling to keep up with Minato's effortless sprint. By the time they reached the square, Minato was already eyeing up the opposition hungrily, like a blonde wolf looking for prey.

'Those Mist nin look like a challenge.' Said Minato, breaking into a grin, provoking a breathless Toshiro to choke in surprise.

'What? Thats your idea of a _challenge?_ They look like they could rip us in half!'

'Maybe they'll get you Toshiro, slowcoach that you are.' Teased Minato, relishing the pale, terrified look on his friend's face, before breaking down laughing, diffusing the fear in Toshiro's heart. Kushina however had taken an interest in an altogether different group of Shinobi.

'Hey, boys, check out those three.' She called, pointing out the squad in question. Two boys and a girl stood near the very front of the crowd in a tight huddle, both for protection and comfort. The first boy had orange hair, like a miniature sun, condensed into a spikey mass of fibres atop his head. He held a katana at his waist and was gripping it very tightly, seemingly more for comfort than anything else, like the sword was his conscience, whispering to him that all would be fine. The girl to his left had blue hair, like a photo negative of Kushina's, that fell to her shoulders, complete with a beautiful origami flower in her hair a white rose, which only served to enhance the modest beauty of her amber eyes and fair skin. But it was the second boy who was of most interest to Kushina. His most noticeable feature was his scarlet hair, an exact carbon copy of Kushina's, albeit a little shorter. It fell into a long fringe that hid his eyes. He was pale skinned, and fidgety, clearly nervous about what was to come. It was his hair that stayed in her memory though.

'Could he be an Uzumaki?' she whispered to herself, her voice so low that not even her team mates heard it, her syllables disintegrating in the breeze. Either way, facing off against this team in the exam was sure to be memorable.

'Kushina, Minato, look!' called Toshiro, pointing to the podium in alarm, his normally feeble voice breaking utterly. 'The whole place has caught fire!'

'Now we're talking!' grinned Minato.

'Welcome all!' boomed Hanzo's powerful, monotonous voice across the crowd, who immediately responded with cheers and whoops on a deafening scale, like a thunderclap that never stopped. Yet still Hanzo's voice carried over them: 'Welcome one and all, Citezens of Ame, Ninja from across the world, I am proud to announce the start of the first Amegakure chunin exam!' Nagato and Minato separately swore that the cheering could be heard halfway across the country. The noise wasn't just loud, it was intense, thick, like the very vibrations of the air had a mass all to their own. Hanzo held up a short, yet well muscled arm to silence the crowd. A few tense moments passed, but then, assured as he was that he held his audience captive by his words, the village leader continued. 'The Village Hidden in the Rain has never, until now, had the space, or resources to host a chunin exam. But, after much long, tiresome preparation, situations have changed. I am honoured to assure you that this great test of finesse and skill will equal, and even overtake those run in the five great countries.' Another calculated pause. 'Genin Shinobi of the world...will you help us put Amegakure on the map forever?' The jubilant response could have woken the dead on the far side of the world.

'Typical Hanzo,' murmered a venomous voice in Jiriaya's ear, 'He spends every waking moment locked up in his tower, drowned under more security measures than the entire Hidden Leaf Village, and then he parades himself around like a god the moment anybody is watching.' The Sanin opened one eye to see whose blatantly irritated voice had interrupted his siesta in Ame's most renound hot-spring. _Not that I really need to confirm it, I know that voice anywhere, _thought Jiraiya, a contented smile playing about his lips, as the other man entered the water.

'You're one to talk about shutting yourself up Orochimaru.' The pale, raven haired sanin grinned slightly at his comrade, a yellow eye rounding on Jiraiya. Orochimaru was not one for socialising, or bathhouses, or even appearing in public much, unless he was around his former comrades. Orochimaru sighed and leant against the side of the bath, the heated steam providing his unearthly pale skin with some much needed colour.

'Touche on that front Jiraiya, that's why I'm here. I'm trying to...ah what's the phrase?...'

'Get a life?'

Orochimaru genuinely smiled, which was an occasion rarer than a blue moon. There had always been some warmth behind the uncaring mask of Orochimaru's visage. But one could count the number of people who ever saw that warmth on one hand. 'Observing the world beyond my laboratory, I think Is a better phrase.'

'So, getting a life then?'

'Essentially,'

Jiraiya closed his eyes contentedly, relaxing his worn muscles in the steaming water, letting the knots in his shoulders unwind like the cord on a yo-yo. Jiraiya and Orochimaru spoke at length for several minutes, possibly hours, Jiraiya neither knew nor cared. Good company was hard to come by these days, and finding two or more of the Sanin in one room together by coincidence was rarer than getting blood from a stone. Orochimaru had not entered any students for the exam, his protégée, Anko, having passed her Chunin exam the previous year. Instead, the legendary serpentine Shinobi had come for 'entertainment purposes' as he put it, which Jiraiya knew meant spying on Hanzo, but the Toad sage was hardly going to complain, Orochimaru had lost comrades to the Rain's leader, just as he had, and just as brutally. After an un-knowable length of time, Orochimaru stood to leave, but not before making a final comment.

'I wish your students the best of luck in the exam, I will be keeping my eye on them.'

Jiraiya chucked heartily, 'You know Minato and the gang will be fine, you've seen them train, you know how skilled they are. Minato might as well be Jonin already!'

Orochimaru looked puzzled for a second, then realisation dawned on his face for a split second, before being replaced by his usual blank visage. Never one to miss an opportunity for a cryptic comment, Orochimaru intoned his final words with deliberate care.

'Oh, I am no stranger to Minato's skill Jiraiya, nor have the talents of Kushina or Toshiro gone un-noticed by me. I am fully aware that they could pass this examination with flying colours without any well-wishing from me. So why exactly did you think I was talking about them?'

With that, Orochimaru turned and made his exit, leaving Jiraiya almost numb with shock. _Your students_ could mean only one other thing. One and one alone. Exiting the water faster than the eye could follow, Jiraiya hurried to the locker rooms, intending to confront his comrade about his words, but the snake Shinobi was gone. _Damnit, trust Orochimaru to reverse summon himself to his room to change._ Jiraiya swore internally and very, very colourfully. Since he had no idea where his old friend was staying within the city, and he'd probably never find out, Jiraiya resigned himself to confirming Orochimaru's words himself. It took him mere moments to pull on his clothes, sling his pack over his back and race into the street.

The thoroughfares of Amegakure were flooded with people moving away from the city centre, obviously the ceremony had ended, and the people were flocking home to the promise of a good meal and a decent rest before the hyperactivity of the exams started. Jiraiya ducked and weaved through masses of people at breakneck speed, spilling several bags of groceries and knocking more than one innocent pedestrian over, but the Sanin had no time to care.

'Jiraiya-sensei, over here!' Minato's voice echoed through the clouds, Jiriaya followed it, racing towards his prize student, eyes constantly scanning for a flash of red, orange or blue, like a magpie looking for the sparkle of a jewel on a winter's night.

'Nagato, did you hear that?' whispered Konan to her partners, the boys nodded, they'd had their ears pricked for that particular name all day. With barely a pause to allow Yahiko to sling his scabbard over his sloulder, they ran full pelt, the wind whipping in their kaleidoscope hair. Somebody had found their teacher. Nothing else mattered, except that they get to this person, before the chance escaped them like smoke through their fingers. Finally, they burst onto a street corner, having followed the young voice like bloodhounds. They found their target.

Jiraiya was standing with a group of Genin that they did not know. A small boy with black hair, and instantly recognisable lavender eyes, without doubt a Hyuuga, laughing quietly at something Jiraiya had said. A girl who did not look any older than the aforementioned genin, but was tall for her age, scarlet hair falling down here back in a great cascade, Jiraiya's hand on her shoulders, like a father and daughter, making Konan bite back a sob. Sensei had once held her like that too, even now she could still feel his warm hand on her shoulder, reassuring her when she couldn't get a jutsu right, or when she injured herself. The final child was a boy with unruly blonde hair and foxy eyes, his mouth split into a permanent grin as he recounted the events of the opening ceremony to the toad sage. It was then that the red haired girl saw them, pointing them out to her team from across the street. Jiraiya looked up, resting his gaze on them, his face remaining set in stone for several seconds, before breaking into a wide, welcoming smile, beckoning them over with a wave of his arm.

'Jiraiya-sensei?' asked Kushina timidly, 'who are those three? We saw them earlier, at the ceremony...do they know you?' Jiraiya carried on smiling as he saw his three old students walk over to him, almost exactly the way he had pictured in his mind: Yahiko, walking arms akimbo, rigid as an iron bar, face set in stone, but eyes giving away everything, Jiraiya frowned inwardly when he registered the jealousy in Yahiko's eyes, which were aimed squarely at Minato, mixed with a not inconsiderable amount of awe. Konan was beaming brightly, but had a tear still clinging to her cheek rebelliously, like the last dewdrop on a crisp evergreen leaf in high summer. It was obvious that she had been upset, likely at him being so formal with Kushina, but it had been dispelled somewhat. The Jonin made a note to make it up to her, maybe some origami of his own. The idea was quickly dissolved, partially by the sheer preposterousness of it, but mostly by Nagato running pell-mell into his old teacher and giving him a bear hug so pronounced that it turned heads halfway down the street.

'Jiraiya-sensei! I knew it was you, I knew that chakra anywhere!' tears were streaming down Nagato's face as the sensei embraced the student he had not seen for so long. It was a hug of a magnitude, and social disregard worthy of the Guy clan. It took several moments for Jiraiya to realise that Yahiko and Konan had caught up with their teammate, and all the genin assembled were looking at him and Nagato rather awkwardly.

'Well,' laughed the Toad Sanin, 'I think introductions, and then a heroic quantity of ramen are in order!'

_And for me, some sleep is in order. I've worked on this chapter on and off constantly in the 24 hours since I posted the last one, but I'm afraid you may have to wait a little longer for chapter 3, as my half term is at an end, and I have to more devote time to my A-Levels again _

_Thanks for the praise and subscriptions! If you have any ideas you particularly want me to add, let me know. Constructive critiscism is also very much appreciated!_

_Thanks so much :D_

_RFRG_


	3. Chapter 3: Theseus

_Thanks Mel7200 for your support and subscription, glad you like it. Thanks Narutofan for your idea as well, I'm trying to work it in as best I can, watch this space._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, I wish I did, I'd be loaded! It is the property of Mashashi Kishimoto-sama, blah blah blah copyright._

_On with the Fanfiction!_

Chapter 3: Theseus.

It was the second time in as many days that she had caught him in the rain, sitting alone on their rooftop, letting the cascading raindrops pitter-patter off of his body, like a quiet, rhythmic drumbeat. It wasn't as heavy tonight as it had been yesterday, no torrential downpour, just a drizzle by comparison, nothing dangerous to anybody's health. It used to perturb her why he would willingly sit out in it, when herself and Nagato were safe and, more importantly in this case, warm inside. But after knowing and living with him for so long, she had come to realise; it was where he went to think, and to confide in his conscience. The rain was essentially his diary. Konan doubted even she knew as much about her partner as Ame's rain did.

'Yahiko?' Konan asked quietly, sitting down next to him, the rain dripping solemnly through her hair, 'What's wrong?' His expression was one of a boy conflicted, she saw so many various emotions in his eyes, it was like his brain couldn't pick one to focus on, so it had employed them all simultaneously. Gently, she took his hand in hers, compelling him to turn and face her. Her amber eyes locked with his blue, and there was an immediate calming effect within them, like the clouds dissappering after a thunderstorm. Only Konan, in the entire world, could sort out his problems without uttering a word. He loved that about her, among a long list of other things. With a smile more characteristic of himself than his previous expression, he rested his head on Konan's shoulder.

'It's Jiraiya-sensei's new squad.' She nodded, she had been willing to bet that was what was concerning him. He continued, a sigh escaping him between words 'They're nice people, I enjoyed their company, but I can't help feeling jealous.' Yahiko's eyes hardened again, but not in an aggressive way, more wounded than anything else. 'That boy Minato, Jiraiya seems to treat him like son, and I miss that...' A tear trickled down his fair skinned face, Konan caught it with her forefinger, resting it on Yahiko's cheek, lighter than a feather on a breeze.

'I miss it too, Yahiko.' She replied, a hint of sadness hiding in her own voice, 'But we could hardly expect Jiraiya-sensei to do nothing when he returned home. Look at it this way, we're competing against them in the exam, now we'll get to see if his teching methods got any better since he left.' She smiled warmly in a way only she could, and Yahiko's tears melted away. After rubbing his eyes with his sleeve, he pulled Konan into a tight hug, that she returned with enthusiasm.

'Yeah. Minato had better watch out for us 'Old School' students, grinned Yahiko. It made Konan's heart flutter to see him in one of his '_I'm going to take on the world and win by a landslide!'_ moods. She had always admired that in him, his ability to never give up, whenever he was down, whatever depressed him, eventually he'd take it in his stride and, more often than not, take Konan and Nagato by the metaphorical hand, and lead them along too. He was a person that you could follow to the ends of the earth.

_And I will_, she thought privately. _The ends of the earth and beyond. _It was at this point when she became over conscious of the fact that he was still embracing her, and she pulled back, cheeks just a slight shade of pink.

'Now come on inside, Nagato's attempting to cook.'

Yahiko needed no further encouragement, the ginger haired Nin was on his feet and through the doorway to the stairs faster than Konan could blink twice. But before she had time to recover from her friend's sudden departure, he reappeared again in a flash of smoke, lent down before she could protest and kissed her on the cheek. Shocked into stunned silence, Konan could only stand as his lips caressed her cheek, softer than the passing of the wind, yet so much more pronounced; the one moment of contact sending lightning bolts down Konan's body, from that tiny spot on her right cheek, to the end of every finger, to every toe, every nerve in her body was set alight by a blazing inferno for half a second, and then, just as quickly, it was gone.

'Thanks for everything.' Grinned Yahiko, disappearing again before Konan could even begin a reply. Gingerly, she raised a hand to the spot on her cheek, touching softly the part that Yahiko had kissed, as though it was a brittle, yet priceless jewel, handled with care, lest it break into a million peices. Slowly, after few minutes, a smile played around her lips. She looked up at the rain that she had found Yahiko sitting in, alone and emotional, maybe five minutes, or maybe a lifetime ago.

'You're more than welcome.'

'Genin competitors!' roared Hanzo, appearing upon his podium with a flash of blinding light and a shower of pyrotechnics, like a million fireflies bursting from the ground simultaneously.

'At least he's consistent when he shows off.' Murmured Nagato, pretending he wasn't impressed, but failing to hide his grin. Yahiko laughed in agreement, fired up with the enthusiasm of the first task of the Chunin exam. Konan, by contrast, was anxious beyond words. She had foregone the usual flower in her hair, because her hands were shaking too much to complete the origami petals, leaving her hair looking forlorn and empty, even though its colour was as radiant blue as it had ever been. She had always been the calm one of the group, the one less inclined to charge in headfirst. Now she wished to god that it had been the other way around, that the boys would have had to hold _her _back to stop her from doing something stupid or reckless, then maybe she wouldn't be as terrified as she was now. The only thing that gave Konan a silver lining in the face of this metaphorical thundercloud, was that Yahiko was still smiling, which was less a silver lining than a radiant sunbeam. But it still didn't completely compensate for the task ahead. Konan snapped herself back into reality as Hanzo continued his speech.

'Many years ago, when I became a Chunin, I travelled to the Village Hidden in the Leaves along with my squad for my exam.' Three rows back from Konan, Minato beamed brightly at the mention of his Home, earning himself a fatherly pat on the head from Jiraiya. 'There, I underwent a test known as the 'Forest of Death.' A Survival test unlike any other, mixed with the most testing of elimination matches. I came out of that Forest inspired, an Inspiration that has been carried with me to this day! I am proud to present, Amegakure's answer to the Forest of Death!'

The crowd roared with excitement and praise, each soul eager to see how Hanzo could create his own Forest of Death, whilst blatantly lacking a forest in any capacity. Their answer came swiftly. Hanzo began arming hand seals faster than the eye could follow: _Boar, monkey, ox, crane, serpent_. Toshiro lost count after that, even with his Byakugan, but seconds later, the purpose of the jutsu was revealed: A stone archway, containing a great brass door with an ornate carving of a Fire Drake upon it, rose up from the ground behind Hanzo. At least 10 feet high, and wide enough for three grown men to stand shoulder to shoulder within it, but curiously, with no visible tunnel or gateway behind it. It was as if the door led to nothing, yet when Hanzo through his hands high, the door swung open with dramatic gusto, showing a dark passage, dripping with water, lit only by the solitary flames of tiny candles, hung along the wall at irregular lengths. The crowd's baited breath was replaced by a sudden thunderclap of confused muttering. Regardless, Hanzo continued his speech;

'Through this portal, each Genin team wishing to participate will pass through one squad at a time, and enter the Labyrinth.' The muttering intensified dramatically, but still Hanzo's booming voice carried over the crowd, like the commandments of a God. 'Each squad will be transported to a different section of the Labyrinth, and there, be provided with either a black scroll, or a white one. Both are needed in order to pass to the next stage of the exam! The rules are simple enough, take the opposite scroll to your own from any other squad within the Maze, and proceed to the centre. The first Ten Genin teams, out of the participating Twenty Five, to reach the centre of the maze, will proceed, the rest shall be eliminated from the exam!'

'Sounds like fun!' beamed Yahiko and Minato simultaneously from different areas of the square, to mixed responses from their respective teammates: Kushina's answer was, as ever, to punch Minato.

'The time limit is three days, as of when the final squad enters the Labyrinth, Good luck to you!' Hanzo finished his gargantuan speech, and vanished in a rather anticlimactic puff of smoke, not staying to hear his thunderous applause.

'Come on, what are we waiting for?' Called Minato, already racing to be first in line to get into the Labyrinth. Kushina and Toshiro hastily said their goodbyes to their teacher and sprinted after their comrade. Jiraiya smiled heartily as he watched their retreating backs, and with a cursory scan of the crowd, he found his former students in a similar situation: An over-enthusaistic and manically hyper Yahiko racing for the portal, Nagato and Konan a step behind him. It struck Jiriaya just how proud he was of all his students, past and present. His heart welled with emotion at the success his teaching had been so far.

'_But the real challenge is yet to come'_ fretted Jiraiya inwardly, desperately trying to not let it show on his face, save for his cursory glance at the squad from the Hidden Mist. Yahiko had filled him in about his meeting with the Kiri Genin, even Jiraiya, who had fought in many bloody battles, and was no stranger to death, had gotten the shivers, and that was just from _hearing_ about them. Seeing the three Swordsmen from the Mist in person was a sight that Jiriaya knew would plague his nightmares for a while. But if anybody could go into a dark labyrinth, fight off a freaky half-shark and his friends, and escape the maze within the time limit, it was his six pupils.

'Do me proud guys.' Said the sage with a reassured smile.

As they approached the portal, Minato and his friends took a collective breath. Once they passed under it's archway, their greatest test would begin. Minato was radiant, Kushina was nonchalant, Toshiro was terrified. But all of them were ready. With a slight pause on Toshiro's part, to wave goodbye to his teacher; hoping that somehow the gesture would bring him good fortune, they stepped through the archway. It was like passing through a wind tunnel for half a second, like a tornado rushing not just past them, but through them, agitating every fibre in their bodies, without putting even the smallest of hairs out of place. One second, they were washed with the wall of noise from the vibrant square, the next; silence. They had stepped through the veil. They had entered the Labyrinth. The doorway behind them was gone, Hanzo had been true to his word, they were in an entirely different area of the maze, yet the corridor looked identical to the one they had seen through the archway.

Minato voiced all of their thoughts; 'Maybe it's designed so every area looks the same, to disorient us?'

Kushina smiled genuinely, which was rare when following Minato saying something. 'You know blondie?' she grinned, 'Maybe you aren't talking out of your butt for once.'

Minato chuckled characteristically, ruffling his blonde hair so it resembled a hedgehog who'd been rolling in egg yolk.

'I love you too.' He replied, with just a slight edge of sarcasm. Kushina rolled her eyes skyward without a word and then put an arm around Toshiro, who was evidently in a state of panic. The young Hyuuga was moving in rapid, ferrety movements. Like a merecat who knows a Hyena is stalking it, ready to pounce.

'W-w-what if we get s-s-stuck down here?' murmered Toshiro, looking over his shoulder every two seconds. 'W-w-what if we don't make it to the next round, WHAT IF THEY DON'T LET US O...' Toshiro didn't get a chance to finish, as Kushina had forced her hand over his mouth.

'You moron, all the other teams will hear you! Do you want to get mulched?' At this point, Kushina realised that she was asphyxiating her squad-mate. The Kunoichi released her hand apologetically, as Toshiro took in a lungful of air: Oxygen had never tasted so good! Minato rounded on his team-mates, his usual goofiness gone, steely determination lining his eyes.

'Okay, we need to decide how to go about this, for now, I'd say lets get moving as quickly and quietly as possible, and when we hear something, we move towards it, jump the first squad we see, steal their scroll and run, right?'

'But Minato?' countered Kushina, 'Hanzo said _we'd _get a scroll.' But, suddenly, as though the maze itself had decided to play counterpoint to them, Kushina suddenly felt a dead weight in her backpack. Removing the offending bag from her shoulders, she had a rummage around in the inside, peering in, she found a small, black scroll with a golden binding. As though the passing through the portal wasn't enough, as though being alone in the dark, twisting passageways wasn't enough. As though one of your friends practically wetting himself scared wasn't enough. This finalised it.

The test had begun.

'Honestly Kisame, you really should learn to not make such a mess.' Tutted the silver haired man. Mangetsu pulledhis sword from the corpse of the recently deceased genin from the hidden rock, and observed his comrade's handiwork on the dead man's teammate.

'What can I say? I get carried away when I'm enjoying myself.' Grinned the half-shark, sadistically licking droplets of blood from his katana before sheathing it, like a wine-expert savours vintage chardonnay. The man who Kisame had 'gotten carried away' with, was barely recognisable as a human. His chest had been slashed open from multiple angles, leaving his internal organs and various bits of his ribcage strewn across the corridor, like a perverse take on a Picasso painting. The man's face had been slashed to pieces while he was still alive, leaving only a bare skull to scream in agony before the sadist blade-master had impaled his head. The final member of the squad was still alive, but one of his legs had been severed, to prevent him from running. The boy was whiter than a ghost, all the blood having exited his face almost as fast as all of his water had exited his body. The genin was backed up against a wall, face contorted by pain from his mutilation, still defiantly holding a kunai in a trembling hand.

'Give us your scroll, and we may let you live.' Intoned Kisame, flicking aside the man's knife with the flat of his blade, and holding it to the man's throat. Meekly, the man turned out his rucksack, producing a white skull, turning slowly pink from his bloodstained fingers. Mangetsu snatched it from him and held it up to the light of a nearby candle. His face was blank for a moment, then his lip turned sharply downwards into a snarl.

'White...all that trouble for nothing..' Mangetsu sighed and tossed the scroll to Kisame, who torched it on the candle. The flames licking the parchment hungrily. 'Zabuza, we're done here, finish this one.'

The third member of Mangetsu's squad moved slowly towards the trembling man, who was desperately trying to drag himself away from his executioner, had he still possessed two legs, he could have had a viable bid for freedom, but the Mist instills two things into every student it produces. Heartless violence, and brutal efficiency. Zabuza's sword flashed like lightning, decapitating the wounded man in one stroke. The rock ninja's head bounced almost comically down the corridor, leaving a sporadic trail of blood, and a tiny 'plink' of metal forehead protector on the stone floor.

'What a waste of time and effort.' Groaned Mangetsu, Zabuza grunted in agreement, sheathing his weapon, making no effort to remove the blood from the blade.

'I'm not so sure, I rather enjoyed myself' chuckled Kisame, his voice layered with sadism as he began marching down the corridors of the maze, in step with his team. Mangestu smiled, looking like a child at chistmas and a Bengal tiger simultaneously.

'Well then, lets go get Kisame something else to play with.' Chuckled Mangetsu, 'That Ginger boy will make for good sport I think.'

_Sorry I took a week over this, I have been buried under so much homework you would not believe! As a rule, I'm setting my update deadline for this fic at Saturday evening, British time, work out the time difference yourselves, I'm too tired to think straight at the minute._

_In other news, I am devoting any free time tomorrow to uploading another one-shot. Partially as a break from 'Amegakure...' but primarily to live up to my Username! Watch this space!_

_Thanks for reading._

_Next chapter: The Demon and the Dreamer._

_RFRG_


	4. Chapter 4: The Demon and the Dreamer

_Hey everybody, Chapter 4 is here. I've included a flashback of the reuinion scene I missed out of the last chapter, due to popular request. Hope you all like it._

_Keep on reviewing; you guys are my incentive to write these things at stupidly late times of the evening! _

_RFRG_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. But Toshrio is MINE!_

Chapter 4: The Demon and the Dreamer. Requiescat in Pace.

The sparse candles around the circular room flickered to an inaudible beat, throwing strange, swaying shadows along the curved walls, like the silhouettes were dancing to the non-existant tune. A lesser man might have been unnerved, but Nagato had desensitized himself to the Labyrinth's tricks. His violet eyes sliding calmly from left to right as he kept guard over his sleeping comrades. There was no sunlight in the maze, nor moonlight, nothing by which to tell the time except gut instinct and one's internal clock, which the scarlet haired genin had sharpened to an uncanny edge, as had his friends. They knew they'd been inside the maze for exactly twelve hours. They knew exactly how much sleep their bodies needed to fully recuperate, which was three hours at best. They knew how to survive.

_Something we have Jiraiya sensei to thank for_, thought Nagato quietly to himself, the barest hint of a smile playing about his features. Despite all his training to always be on the alert, and to never trust the quiet to last particularly long, any thought of his old sensei mentally dragged Nagato back into 'the good old days.' Thoughts of yesterday's reunion flooded Nagato's mind, how the red-head had floored it across that street to embrace the Sanin, not giving a damn who was looking. Nagato's smile grew wider, and he relaxed himself against the wall next to Konan and Yahiko's sleeping forms. The other two were huddled close together, but never actually touching. As though even when unconscious, it was too awkward to make contact. Konan's hand was barely a centimetre from Yahiko's, and if Nagato remembered correctly, Yahiko had fallen asleep first. No matter how much she had wanted to close the gap, Konan had kept that one sacrosanct centimetre. Nagato sighed, he had been the third person, the gooseberry, for long enough to know their feelings inside and out, despite them never voicing them. But that was a worry for another time, as recent memories of Jiriaya sensei's 'introductions and heroic quantities of ramen' flooded Nagato's mind, his Rinnegan eyes losing focus, as his brain wandered out of the winding maze and into the past.

_The restaurant was quiet that night. It wasn't exactly top of the range cuisine, but Jiraiya-sensei had never really thought fine dining appropriate to social situations. It wasn't as though his old squad were foreign dignitaries, or VIP's. Just old familiar faces making up for lost time, there was no call to impress, no formalities, just as much Ramen as they could fill themselves with and good conversation. Nagato had always admired that edge of practicality to his teacher, something he had strived to emulate in the years after his departure._

_The mood was stunted and awkward at first, as it always is when meeting strangers. Nobody had spoken initially, just waiting to be served in uncomfortable silence. You couldn't have cut the tension with a knife; more dented it with a sledgehammer. As ever, metaphorical sledgehammers were Yahiko's job._

'_So, you studied under Jiraiya-sensei as well?' asked the unofficial leader of the rain genin. The boy opposite him had grinned proudly, ignoring the miso sauce dripping down his chin. _

'_Yup!' he replied, offering his right hand to Yahiko, before realising his chopsticks were still in it. After hastily dropping his cutlery he continued. 'Minato Namikaze, and you are?' _

'_Yahiko' replied the orange-haired boy, mirroring Minato's grin for a second, before it slouched downwards into a frown, 'I don't really have a family name.'_

_Jiraiya interjected at this point to spare Yahiko the pain of explaining. He owed them a lot for leaving them, and any weight he could take off their shoulders was a help. 'They were orphaned during the war,' the Sanin explained, noticing Nagato and Konan take a sudden, sullen interest in their shoes. 'They lived with each other for a long time before I met them, and they seemed to have taken a good job caring for each other, An opinion I still hold to today.' The sage watched as his old students smiled slightly, the painful memories lifting a little. Minato looked embarrassed._

'_I'm sorry about your family, I didn't mean...' was all the guilty genin had time to say before Yahiko cut him off with a wave of his hand._

'_Really it's fine, don't worry about it, I said I didn't have a family name, Not that I didn't have a family.' He rested a hand on Konan's shoulder for a second, causing the sappire-haired girl to go faintly pink through the cheeks. Minato laughed heartily and returned to his ramen. Kushina caught Nagato's eye, and he smiled nervously. He never had been good at meeting new people, and he flicked his fringe over his eye nervously, fearful that someone would get creeped out by his Rinnegan. By complete contrast to his opinion, Kushina smiled warmly._

'_Cool eyes!' she exclaimed in awe, 'Is that like the Sharingan or something?' Nagato went bright pink, and clammed up, it was incredibly rare that somebody should take interest in his dojutsu, and not just call him a 'ring-eyed freak.' That made all of four people in the world. Jiraiya seized the initiative to shower praise upon his students. _

'_Kushina my dear, the Sharingan pales, hides in the corner and cries when compared to Nagato's gift, and the Byakugan does little better...sorry Toshiro.' He hastily added on when he saw Toshiro's eyes well up. The Hyuuga had confidence issues at the best of times, and now Jiraiya had just belittled his dojutsu. Some serious vocal backpedalling was in order, lest the Sanin dig this hole any deeper._

'_The Byakugan has many strengths of course!' he said, patting Toshiro on the back in the most fatherly way he could muster despite having dug himself metaphorically six feet under. Toshiro smiled slightly and raised his head back up to look Nagato in the eye, observing them for the first time. A look of sudden realisation spread across his face, like Archimedes, but without the bathwater and the sudden inescapable need to run down the street stark naked._

'_J-J-Jiraiya...sensei...he's g-g-g-got the R-R-R-R...' Toshiro was stammering so much it was like his voice was allergic to the words. 'R-Rinnegan!' he finally managed to stammer. Nagato managed a small, nervous smile, But Jiraiya clapped him heartily on the back._

'_Stuff of Legends right there!' he exclaimed, making Nagato internally swell with pride, but externally go a deep shade of pink. He looked away, hoping the conversation would move on to a topic other than his kekkei genkai. He caught Kushina's eye again, snapping her into reality, she offered a hand._

'_Kushina Uzumaki.'_

_He took it_

'_Nagato...hey I'm descended from the Uzumaki!' he replied with uncharacteristic enthusiasm, Kushina's smiled radiantly. She had recognised her clan's trademark scarlet hair on sight, but had been unsure about mentioning it until now. Members of her clan were internationally feared for their famous sealing jutsus, so naturally she had suspected he'd take it the wrong way if she asked. _

'_That makes you my distant cousin! It's great to finally have a relative of my own age!' _

_Nagato grinned broadly, 'Ditto' he replied. _

_The conversation drifted on and on, Minato and Yahiko had a race to see who could finish six bowls of miso ramen faster, which Yahiko won by barely a second; to much complaining from his blonde opponent, like a footballer after a blatant dive, only slightly less pathetic. Kushina and Nagato had talked at length about their different ninjutsu specialities: Kushina's flair for funinjutsu and Nagato's Rinnegan, which he found himself more comfortable discussing than he had been before. Only Konan and Toshiro kept quiet. With the other members of their squads already occupied, Jiraiya tried to break the ice between them._

'_So Konan? How's your Origami-Jutsu?' he asked, the shy Kunoichi smiled gingerly. Toshiro's ears perked up._

'_You do origami?' he asked timidly. Konan nodded, leaving Toshrio awed. 'There were older guys in my clan who could do it, they could make some awesome stuff, one guy could make a bunch of flowers...I can't even fold a paper aeroplane.' Toshrio dropped into a sullen demeanour again, which lasted all of four seconds before Konan produced a wonderous paper bouquet, and offered it to him._

'_H-H-How did you do it so quickly?' Toshiro stammered, not fully believing his dojutsu enhanced eyes. _

_Konan chuckled sweetly, 'I can show you how if you want.'_

'_Please!'_

It didn't sound like Toshiro speaking, even though Nagato could see his lips moving. They sounded too feminine to be the young Hyuuga.

'Please Nagato...'

Now the image of Toshiro's face was out of sync, the restaurant was flying, soaring away from him down a tunnel, but the voice was taking form, he recognised it, but his brain wasn't working properly, where had the world gone? Why could he still hear Konan's voice in the oblivion?

'NAGATO WAKE UP!'

Nagato came to, awaking from the dream he could not remember drifting into to find all about them in chaos. Their possessions were scattered everywhere, the clamour of battle hit Nagato like a sonic boom. Konan was shaking him violently, begging for him to help them. In a heartbeat, Nagato was on his feet, pulling a kunai from his belt and charging into the fray.

In a spectacular display of swordsmanship, Yahiko was simultaneously fending off the three Mist Ninja that they had seen at the opening ceremony. Blades moving faster than lightning and hitting louder than a thunderclap, the flash-step dance of Yahiko's katana sparking off of the three blades it had been set against. Nagato barrelled into Kisame, sending the shark-man flying from his feet, his blade clattering across the floor with a staccato rhythm. Konan dashed to Yahiko's aid to even the odds. Without needing to form hand seals, Konan's left hand dissolved into thousands of tiny paper squares, coalescing in her right hand to form a large, origami katana: light as a feather, but sharp as diamonds. Konan wasn't nearly as good with a blade as Yahiko was, but her partner had taught her some basic kendo techniques, and desperation would give her the rest. As Mangetsu swung his katana high over his head, bringing it down in a deathly arc towards Yahiko, Konan deflected it, sending sparks flying. Mangetsu and Zabuza leaped back, inspecting their new foe.

'Well well Zabuza, I see our prey's girlfriend has joined in, the more the merrier.' Zabuza noted that his teammate was sporting his best _I'm going to chop you into little pieces_ grin. He hated that his partner was so nonchalant, death was death, not something to be taken lightly or joked about, hence why Zabuza never did. But at least Mangetsu was good at it.

'You can take the girl Mangetsu, discuss beauty tips or something, the ginger one is mine.' Killing was nothing to joke about, but Mangetsu was. The comparatively feminine shinobi grunted defeatedly. The matter settled, Zabuza locked eyes with Yahiko, who was panting heavily, as though there was no oxygen left in his body. Fighting a weaker opponent was not Zabuza's style, but they needed this team's scroll. Without another word, Zabuza launched himself at Yahiko, careening into him and separating him from Konan. Yahiko shoved the larger swordsman off, his muscles wearing thin, but not before they had gone several yards. The ginger boy lunged halfheartedly at Zabuza, his entire arm feeling numb, as though it had been doused in arctic ice. Zabuza parried Yahiko's attack easily, knocking aside the first blow, and the second and third with barely a flick of his wrist each.

'You're pathetic, why don't you just lie down and die? We both know how this is going to end.'

Yahiko didn't even have enough breath for a comeback, attempting to fight the three swordsmen at once had drained him entirely of his energy. He was buying time at the very most. Every nerve was screaming in defiance, every muscle grinding agonisingly against his bones. He could barely hold his blade. His vision was blurring. This was far from the first fight he'd found himself in, but never had i anything drained him this much. He was on the verge of passing out. He swayed, fighting a losing battle to stay on his feet.

Zabuza rolled his eyes. It was time to put the boy out of his misery. Credit where it was due, nobody had ever lasted so long against the three of them attacking at once. Their other prey lasted seconds at best. But this boy really was something. But no matter what kendo skill this prodigy might have, all blades fell and all shields splintered before Blood Mist.

Zabuza moved like a thunderbolt, stepping with the grace of a dancer inside Yahiko's guard. With a swipe of his right hand, he knocked Yahiko's katana away with the flat of his blade, and spinning on the spot, prepared to strike. Zabuza had just enough time to take in the look on Yahiko's face. Surprisingly he wasn't scared. Not an ounce of fear was evident on the boy's face. Zabuza had been in this situation more times than he could count. Almost every man he had cut down in his short career had been gifted the same look of utter horror at their impending doom. Most cried, some screamed. All of them wasting their last moments in pitiful fear. Not this one. The boy had a steely determination in his eyes. Eyes that were accepting of their fate. Eyes that had been ready to face death for a long time. Zabuza paused for half a heartbeat. Men like this were rare, stupidly rare. Killing them was one of the few things he genuinely ended up regretting. But it had to be done.

'I'm sorry.' Intoned Zabuza, before he drove his katana through Yahiko's chest.

Yahiko didn't feel the blade impale him. His entire body just went numb. One limb parylising itself after another. Dark patches were creeping into his vision, like the night itself was seeping into his eyes. He was vaguely aware of a girl screaming in the background. He saw Konan running towards him, over Zabuza's shoulder. The other mist ninja was picking himself up off of the floor, a deep gash across his chest. It was evidently shallow, because the genin was chasing after Konan, swearing at the top of his lungs, but it was proof that she'd done better than he had. Yahiko smiled feebly. Konan's hair was dancing out behind her as she ran, he loved the way it caught the light, sparkling like sapphires. Funny how death makes you notice these things. He didn't register that he was falling until he hit the floor, a dull thud crashing in his half-deaf ears. Seconds later Konan was crouching over him, tears cascading down her cheeks in great waterfalls. Why was she crying? Didn't she know how much it hurt to see her cry? His hearing wasn't brilliant, there was a perpetual buzzing in his ear, but he could vaguely make out her words.

'Yahiko...no...hold on...' she was choking on her words, every one of them allergic to her. Yahiko couldn't die, not now, not here. The boy who had saved her from starvation when her parents were killed. The boy who had lived with her, sharing the suffering and the hardship of life on the streets, so that she didn't have to bear it alone. The boy who had helped her through her ninja training. The boy who she found last night in the rain. The boy who was her world. Yahiko could not die here. Not now. She loved him too much to let him go now.

With every muscle crying in protest, Yahiko reached up to touch her cheek, drying a tear with his gentle caress. Even at death's door, he was a gentleman to the last. His brilliant blue eyes locked with hers. Another little detail he adored; her eyes, like two drops of golden honey. Even tears did not mar her beauty. Every breath was a war against his throat and punctured lung, but he still found the oxygen for one last sentence.

'Konan...you look...so beautiful...' His hand went limp, lifeless as a fallen leaf in autumn.

Gasping for air, as though oxygen was precious diamonds, Nagato tried desperately to kick out at his attacker, who had him pinned against the wall, raised off the floor by his neck. The shark-man had a vice grip on him with his single hand, asphyxiating Nagato slowly and silently. The grin on his face was manic, like a child at Christmas who's just received twice as many gifts as he did the previous year. Kisame had long since sheathed his sword. The boy was clearly a good fighter, he'd sent Kisame reeling with his initial attack. And decent fights were few and far between. The Kiri genin was going to savour this one.

Nagato was running out of air, black spots were forming in his vision. He couldn't see Konan or Yahiko, he prayed to god that they were holding their own. With a final desperate effort, Nagato raised his right hand, strugging to get enough oxygenated blood into his limb to make it obey him. He'd never used this technique before, not on a real person. It was experimental at best. But it was his only hope. Drawing in his last lungful of air. He forced his palm against Kisame's chest. The half-shark roared with laughter at Nagato's seemingly pathetic attack.

'HAHAHAHA! Was that your best shot? You pathetic waste of sp...' he didn't get to finish.

'Deva Path!' Roared Nagato, with all the luster he could drag out of his every fibre. 'ALMIGHTY PUSH!'

Kisame was heftd off his feet and sent reeling, flying backwards at a speed unknown to man, crashing into the wall next to his comrades. Zabuza had been trying to restrain Mangetsu from violently hacking Konan into tiny pieces as she cried over Yahiko's broken body, in retribution for the large scar emblazoned upon his chest. Zabuza's argument about one brave soul being enough was falling on deaf ears, as his companion kicked, pinched and scratched at the other man to get free. But the silver haired genin ceased his struggle when his shark-like compatriot crashed into a nearby wall. The two kiri swordsmen left standing drew their blades and rounded on Nagato, who was reeling from the aftershock of his Rinnegan technique. Nagato registered the look of utter fury in Mangetsu's eyes, and the resigned look in Zabuza's.

Then several things happned at once.

As though a sunbeam had forced it's way between them, the Kiri genin were knocked apart by a blinding burst of golden light, which coalesced into a sort of yellow blur. As Mangetsu was picking itself up, the air shimmered around him, the unknown yellow entity flashed for billionth of a second, before Mangetsu was pummelled into the floor, utterly unconscious. Zabuza was already on his feet, and took a swing at the slowly coalescing golden form above Mangetsu, but before the blade could make contact, it was already gone; Reappearing faster than the speed of light behind Zabuza, knocking him out with a blow that may as well have been sub-atomic for all Nagato could see. Two down and one to go. Kisame pulled himself out of the wall and shoulder charged the general area where Zabuza had fallen, hoping to bulldozer their mostly invisible assailant, but to no avail. The golden spark flashed once, and Kisame went down. Hitting the ground unconscious like a sack of potatoes. Finally the source of the yellow blur was revealed. A tall, blonde haired boy was standing over Kisame's body, prodding it with the flat of a kunai to make sure he was out. Noticing Nagato for the first time, the Rinnegan prodigy's saving grace spoke up.

'We thought we heard something going down over here.' Grinned Minato. Nagato, despite everything, mirrored the expression.

'What the hell was that? Some kind of 'Deus-Ex-Machina-no-jutsu?'

Minato laughed. 'I call it the Flying thunder god technique, works like a dream, but leaves you feeling like hell.' He added, grimacing and clutching his stomach. Nagato nodded, his extreme trial run of the Deva path had left him in a similar state. Suddenly realisation dawned upon Nagato.

'Yahiko and Konan' he muttered, dashing off to where he'd seen them last, as fast as his legs would carry him. Rounding a corner, he practically fainted at the sight in front of him. Konan was kneeling over Yahiko's body, sobbing uncontrollably onto his chest. Nagato collapsed down next to Konan, who was undergoing a massive emotional breakdown. Yahiko's face looked peaceful, eyes closed, like he was dreaming. Nagato cursed himself. If only he hadn't fallen asleep, the Mist ninja would never have ambushed them. Yahiko wouldn't be...he wouldn't be...

Nagato couldn't even bring himself to think it. All he could do was place a hand on Konan's shoulder, doing his best to keep from crying. Konan's tears were for a different reason than his own, he would be doing her an injustice to cry along with him. Her feelings for Yahiko should not be mixed with his, not now. Grief was no time to mix love and comradeship.

Minato rounded the corner, panting like his lungs would burst, before he took in the scene before him. The blonde genin panicked. _Oh god! I came here to save them, not for this to happen_, he inwardly screamed.

'Hang on, I'll get Toshiro!' Minato called. Nagato looked up, his face reminiscent of Pilate calling for mercy from the mob. 'He's a medic-nin, he'll be able to help, just hold on!' With all of his remaining strength, Minato teleported away. Nagato prayed that something could be done, something to stop the world collapsing around them. Yahiko could not be gone. Armageddon was less threatening to him than that.

Seconds later, Minato reappeared, his squad in tow. A flash of golden light heralding their arrival. It wasn't as heavenly as Minato's original messiah-like appearance. As though even Minato's ninjutsu was responding to the grief that permeated the room. Nagato hurried over and gripped Toshrio on the arm, a look of mad desperation in his eyes.

'If there's anything you can do, do it!' Nothing else needed to be said. Toshrio nodded slowly and hurried over to kneel beside Konan. The sapphire-haired Kunoichi stood to let him pass, leaning against Nagato for support, not daring to hope. Toshiro gripped Yahiko's wrist, then his neck. All was silence for several seconds, which felt like hours. As though the whole world was watching with baited breath.

Finally, Toshrio cried jubilantly, shattering the tension like a sledgehammer shatters glass.

'I've got a pulse!' he cried, 'He's alive!'

_Oh come on, like I'd kill Yahiko! Sweet lord in heaven, that was the most tiring chapter yet! And there's still loads to come. I feel more drained than Yahiko did fighting Zabuza. Some sleep is definitely in order. That's this week's update done and dusted. Hope you all enjoyed it. Please review!_

_May the force be with you, always._

_RFRG_


	5. Chapter 5: Black Shuck

_AHHHH! I can't believe it's taken me this long! I just had to jinx it by saying it'd be up early didn't I? You would not believe the trouble I've had this fortnight. All the same, sorry for the two-week wait, I'm back on my normal update schedule now (hopefully!) I hope this chapter comes out okay, I've been writing it in sporadic bursts whenever I have a spare minute, which has been rare!_

_This chapter idea came to me when listening to The Darkness, hence the chapter title. For those of you reading this who have never listened to The Darkness, DO IT, I COMMAND YOU!_

_Oh and would Toby, Alex and Jayko (yes I know it's you, I'm not an idiot) stop trolling my fics? If you're only going on this site to be ironic and stupid, bug somebody else, or better still, get lost! I'm trying to have fun here and FYI: You aren't clever. If anything, your 'ironic' fic about 'Supraman' is merely reflective of your utter lack of intelligence and lack of a social life. Go home._

_This fic is dedicated to the people who subscribe to me and enjoy my work. Thanks guys, you help me better put up with this pack of morons from my school._

_Disclaimer, I do not own Naruto. I DO own Toshiro Hyuuga, and I have plans for him... _

Chapter 5: Black Shuck.

The rain fell in endless torrents, drowning Amegakure as it always did, under the tears of the gods. Far below him, the sprawling urban jungle seemed to grow out in all directions, like a weed growing hapharzardly in an allotment, desperately groping for sunlight. Being so far above the mundane life on the ground gave him space to think, to formulate, to plot. Alone with his thoughts and the heavens.

Hanzo of the Salamander gazed out of the window of his chambers at the world before him, sighing deeply at the ever persistent rain that beat down upon his village. Contrary to popular belief, Hanzo did not reside in Amegakure's tallest tower for security, he had a large enough detail to be perfectly safe from any kind of attack, even when in public. If he'd wanted a secure location, he could have picked anywhere in his village, down to the tiniest ramen shop. No. The reason he lived here was simply because it was as close to God as he could possibly get with his feet on the ground.

'_It is safe to say that God would know the name Hanzo of the Salamander, even had he not been responsible for his creation.' _Intoned a voice from somewhere behind him. Hanzo did not turn, or even move the smallest of muscles. He knew the voice well enough. He had been waiting for it.

'How goes the plan, Master?' replied Hanzo, his voice laden with reverence, to compensate for his blatant lack of eye contact. He knew his superior preferred it that way. The other man chuckled slightly, his laugh emanating out of the shadows like the voice of the devil himself.

'_Very well, very well indeed. I have nearly developed the weapon.'_ His tone turned mildly serious. '_How many genin teams have progressed into the next round_?'

Hanzo turned to the monitor at the edge of the room. The flickering, green-hued screen allowed the Rain's leader to keep constant Vigil over all the teams within the Labyrinth. Hanzo flicked over to the the screen displaying the Labyrinth's centre, a handful of ninja were already huddled inside, talking animatedly, boasting of their achievements. Hanzo did a headcount of the exhausted, prideful genin.

'Seven' replied Hanzo resignedly. It had been almost three days since he had sent the prospective Chunin into the twisting, endless labyrinth than ran haphazardly underneath the village. The last sands of time were slowly ebbing away. In a few scant hours, Hanzo would begin the next round of the exam. The thought lit up his features with an almost demonic excitement. Knowing that his master's grand was crawling closer to fruition made the silber-haired jonin's very heart dance manically, following some form of emotion-driven rhythm that none but God himself could hear.

'_Seven will be enough, proceed with the preparations for the next stage.'_

The man's response left Hanzo taken aback. 'Only seven my lord?' replied the Jonin, worriedly, sweat speckling his brow. 'I thought you specifically requested ten'

'_There is at least one squad from each of the five principal villages already in the next round. Ten was a safety blanket. One from each village is enough.'_ The voice was emotionless, flat, and detached, as it always was. Hanzo had always admired that in his master, never did anything break his mask.

Rather than labour over the details of the plan, Hanzo merely nodded. The works of his lord and master were divine, so he had been taught, so who was he to question? Seeing the mute response from his subordinate, the man turned and melted back into the shadows without further comment. Hanzo turned back to the computer screen and flicked on the microphone. If his master had all the subjects he needed, then it was time to clear out the labyrinth of the stragglers. The leader of the Rain village lowered his masked mouth to the microphone, and spoke, every word carrying the finality of death itself.

'Wake the Cerebrus.'

He loved the way she danced. Swaying to the beat in her mind, amongst the field of beautiful Paper roses. Her blue hair sashaying out behind her; an ocean of sapphires, radiant in the summer sun. She came closer, her face warm and welcoming. Her eyes like miniature suns, he could lose himself in their light. Closer still she came, every step measured with grace that outstripped the most professional of ballet dancers. Leaning down until her angelic face was level with his, her sapphiric bangs tickling his cheeks gently, like a lover's caress. Her voice was barely a whisper, but more musical than the song of a mockingbird.

'_Yahiko, wake up_.'

Even after the idyllic dream melted away, it took him awhile to open his eyes, they were gummed shut after so long unconscious. Everything was blurred, like Picasso had drawn reality before him. The world was a wash of colour, and a droning buzz in his ear, like an army of hung-over wasps, which finally coalesced into audible voices.

'Toshiro, I can't thank you enough.' Was that Nagato he could hear? He was evidently pleased about something. And Toshiro...it took Yahiko a few seconds to put the face to the name. Why was the timid boy from Minato's team here? Speaking of the devil, the blonde boy's voice carried to Yahiko's gently recovering ears next.

'I told you he could do it! Nice one.'

The blob of bown and blue hues at the edge of Yahiko's vision didn't audibly respond, but the ginger boy did notice a slowly coalescing smile appear on Toshiro's face. The medic seemed quite devoid of his usual shy nature, merely surprised at the praise he was receiving, like a small child meeting his first true friends.

But it was Konan's voice that Yahiko listened out for, her soft syllables that he craned his dozing ears to catch. It felt like hours, even though it was a few seconds at the most, but he heard her. Her words musical to him in a way that no opera singer could match.

'You're awake?' the words were soft and whispered like a spring breeze. They were for him alone, the others were too busy enveloped in his being alive to notice he was regaining consciousness. Her golden eyes locked onto his blue ones, like the first rays of morning sunlight over a cool ocean. He grinned, with great effort.

'You were expecting anything less?' replied Yahiko with his trademark polite sarcasm. Konan smiled from ear to ear and wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a tight embrace. Nothing needed to be said between them, the quick, manic rhythm of their heartbeats against each other's torso's was enough.

'How long have I been out?'

'Best part of two days, repairing all the damage worked Toshiro raged.' It was not Konan's voice this time, but Nagato's. As his scarlet haired companion entered Yahiko's field of vision, he noticed Nagato's usual well-spoken dialect was tinted with undertones of joy and relief, like deep bass notes backing a symphony. 'Try not to get stabbed again anytime soon eh?'

'Duly noted, anything else important happen during my siesta?' Yahiko felt Konan's heartbeat slow to a steady pulse against his body, and she unhooked herself from around him, her trademark warm smile creeping onto her face. She mopped a stray tear from under her eye and replied, voice laden with thinly veiled emotion.

'Minato took out the Mist-nin singlehanded.' To this, Minato blushed deeply, his face befeft of all but utter modesty. If Yahiko didn't already like this guy, her certainly did now. Yahiko looked around at Minato and his teammates, especially the haggard looking Hyuuga who looked fit to collapse.

'I owe you guys my life, I'm lost for all other words except: Thank you.'

The next few minutes crept by slowly. Yahiko managed to get to his feet, with an arm around each of his team-mates, and bout of profuse, imaginative swearing whenever the newly healed wound flared up. Minato and Nagato spent a long time debating which team should receive the mist team's scroll, which eventually went to Minato after Nagato insisted: 'You saved all our lives back there, it's the least we can do.' It was twenty long minutes before the teams managed to get moving, resolves to find a second scroll between them, so neither side had to face elimination. The corridors all looked the same, and seemed to sprawl out in odd, near impossible directions, which more than once left Nagato unsure about the sobriety of the Architect, and the torches seemed to be all but out of oil, leaving them stuck in a perpetual underground twilight. Eventually, after half an hour of wandering aimlessly, Nagato stopped dead.

Minato turned around to face the scarlet-haired rain ninja, a look of perplexion painted across his face. 'What's up?' he asked, eager to see what had deadlocked his friend so. Nagato's ears were perked, like he was straining to hear something. All that Minato could perceive was the silence and their own sporadic voices. The other's craned their necks and looked in all directions to spot what Nagato may have been sensing.

'Do any of you hear...growling?' Nagato asked, his voice speckled with uncharacteristic fear.

Minato did not even have time to shake his head. Suddenly, out of the darkness itself, a great black shape careened into them, scattering them in all directions: Yahiko flew sideways as the thing hit him from behind, and was only spared from slamming into the wall by a blanket of cushioned paper coalescing before him. Konan managed to dodge aside in time to save Yahiko, but Nagato was hit full on. The scarlet haired Shinobi was tossed high into the air by the sheer kinetic power of the impact, slamming into the roof of the high corridor with a resounding thud, something cracked, it wasn't the ceiling. Nagato felt the world receeding around him, black spots in his vision blurred, forming a great void across his eyes. He was faintly aware of Minato screaming something...something that began with a...'K'? Then the world went black.

When Nagato came to, the corridor was strangely quiet. Yahiko and Konan were leaning over him, the former seemingly having forgotten his own grievous wound. Nagato gently patted aside their outstretched hands and pulled himself to his unsteady feet, swaying a little, like a reed in a calm breeze.

Minato was sitting hunched against the wall, muttering to himself. Toshiro stood next to him, looking dejected and useless, like the world was ending around both of them. Nagato was about to ask what was wrong when he did a mental headcount of the assembled.

Kushina wasn't there.

As if reading his mind, Minato let forth a great sob, a dull moan that reverbated through everyone's ears. A minor key, one-note symphony that could have been the soundtrack to the end of the world. Minato's weeping permeated everyone's consciousness like a black veil had been drawn over their emotions.

'It...t-t-took Kushina...It took Kushina!' he kept repeating over and over. All else was silence, as if all of reality was tuned into Minato's sorrow. All eyes turned to Nagato, every one of them boring into him like blind spearmen desperate for their target. Nagato had always prided himself on his clear head, and ability to take stock of any situation, however groggy or tired he may be. He felt like hell, the ceiling had clearly not finished channelling pain into him. But his mind was in overdrive.

'Konan, send out paper clones in all directions, as many as you can, the moment one of them sees or hears anything, have it report immediately!' No sooner had Nagato finished, than six, seven, eight, nine exact copies of Konan coalesced next to her. Duplicates of the original in appearance down to the smallest detail, yet they looked ghostly, solid, yet insubstantial. Konan had yet to master solidifying her paper, as such, her clones looked like a thin breeze might knock them over. Nevertheless, they would suffice. Without a word from their shade-like mouths, the clones departed in all directions, down differing corridors, zigzagging along pathways, their footsteps gradually receeding to a faint staccato drumbeat, then silence. Konan looked like she was under a lot of strain, but a determined, diamond-hard look had taken over her, she was utterly focussed on her task, and Nagato knew better than to ask if she was alright.

'Yahiko, In case the clones don't turn up a lead, I need you to find the nearest large source of water. Whatever that thing is, it's gotta get thirsty sometime, so I'll bet we'll find it there if all else fails.' Nagato made an active choice not to mention that Kushina only _might_ be alive by the time they got there. It worried him that he'd nearly added that bit. '_In future, raising morale is Yahiko's job_' he thought, with an inward grimace at his close brush with idiocy. Yahiko stood unsteadily, and wrapping an arm around Yahiko for support, he shuffled over to the nearest wall and placed an outstretched hand upon it, closing his deep blue eyes.

'Water Style, Ocean Hunter Jutsu!' he mouthed slowly. It was a technique Yahiko had developed not long after Jiraiya had left them. They had been on the move for several years, and the lakes and streams of Ame were often polluted by the heavy industy within the Village. As such, it was hard to know what you were drinking was safe, even the rainwater was sometimes polluted by the gasses from the factories. Yahiko's ability allowed them to track the nearest decent sized source of clean, drinkable water, by scanning the molecules around him and beyond for a match. It had saved them from dying of thirst on more than one occasion. And right now, Nagato was thanking God that his friend had had the foresight to develop it.

After a few moments of intense concentration, Yahiko opened his eyes. 'The nearest water source is a small, underground lake, about a kilometre due westnnnnggghhhhhh!' Yahiko's wound flared up again and he grimaced in pain. Swearing profusely, he slumped against Nagato, who bore him gently to the floor and leaned him against a wall. Yahiko was in no state to fight after his ordeal with Zabuza.

'Toshiro, look after my team-mate,' The young Hyuuga nodded timidly, he had obviously wanted a greater role in the rescue of his compatriot, but somebody had to stay, with Yahiko recovering from his wound, if he was ambushed by another squad, he was a gonner by himself, however brave he was.

'Minato?' the blonde genin looked up, and Nagato was taken aback by the fire in his eyes. Like an unquenchable flame was hidden behind his eyeballs, waiting to burst out. The boy got to his feet and looked Nagato square in the eye, gone was the happy-go-lucky, sociable kid. This was a child enveloped in grief and pure determination.

'Nagato, whatever you need, tell me.'

Nagato nodded, and put a hand on Minato's shoulder, two men bonded as brothers.

'You're coming with me to get Kushina back, That teleportation technique of yours will come in handy.'

Minato barely had time to nod when Konan shot bolt upright, struck by metaphorical lightning.

'One of my clones heard growling, and lots of it, about a kilometre west of here!' she exclaimed.

'That's that lake Yahiko mentioned!' replied Minato, all present nodded. 'Yahiko, can you fill me in any more about it? The clearer I can picture it, the easier it will be to teleport!'

Yahiko updated Minato as much as possible, due to the nature of his jutsu, he could offer little more than distances and dimensions, but it had to be enough. Konan was worn out from the over-use of her clones. She'd never sustained nine simultaneously before, so she opted to stay with Yahiko and Toshiro. With an air of finality, Minato walked over to Nagato, and, placing a hand on his shoulder, whispered a few words Nagato could not hear.

Then the world went blank for a heartbeat, and there was a whoosing sound against Nagato's ears, like a hurricane was slamming against him, grasping hold of his soul with both hands and rending it from his body. One second of nauseating, tornado-like hell. Then all was silence.

It took Nagato a surprising amount of seconds to remember how to open his eyes. When he did, he wished he hadn't. The chamber they had been transported to was cavernous; Nagato could barely see the ceiling, or the far wall. But Yahiko seriously needed to re-evalute the logistics on his Ocean Hunter Jutsu; the 'small' lake within the chamber, had to be at least 100 square metres, hewn in a perfect square by man. The water would be pure and clear, Yahiko was never wrong about that, but it had an eerie, black tint to it. Maybe it was the lack of light thrown by the sporadic candles dotted around the room. Maybe it was someting more sinister. Either way, Nagato felt no desire for a dip.

'KUSHINA!' Minato roared from somewhere nearby. Nagato turned to see his compatriot running around the rim of the man-made lake. Nagato immediately pelted after him pell mell, tracing Minato's line of vision. Kushina was lying awkwardly against a large black rock by the waterside, her arm was clearly broken in several places, and she was barely conscious. With a rejuvenated stride, Minato reached her, Nagato right on his heels. Minato kneeled down next to his friend and picked her up, holding her bridal-style in his modestly muscled arms, tears of rage welling up and overflowing in his oceanic eyes. For the second time in the last few days, Nagato took a respectful step back; these emotions were personal to Minato, and he had no place intruding on them. Kushina gurgled something indiscernible. Minato pressed his ear close to her, desperate to catch the slightest syllable.

'Kushina...who did this to you?...where are they?..I'll...I'll!' the rage was building with every word. Minato sounded like he wanted to rip whoever had hurt his friend limb from limb. Nagato was familiar with that feeling. He saw it in Yahiko's eyes every time somebody even remotely hurt Konan. Funny how life makes love come out as anger. Nagato's internal monologue was cut short when Kushina sharply raised a hand and grabbed Minato's collar, her face alert, but strained, like she was fighting a losing battle for every second of consciousness. One word was all she managed. One word was all she needed.

'Run.'

Nagato did not hear the growling at first, he didn't catch the low, menacing rumble of a hungry predator. What he _did_ notice was the shadow that had been thrown over him, as though what little light remained in the room had been snatched from existence. Then he noticed that the rock they had found Kushina lying against was no longer there, it had been replaced by four, long, rather furry pillars. Then he noticed the pillars had paws. _Then_ he noticed the growling. Nagato looked up and was met by the gaze of the beast that had snatched Kushina from them not long earlier. The monster had the form of a gigantic dog, thirty feet in length, and twenty in height, complete with a long, black tail. What separated this particular fiend from a regular canine, was the inclusion of not one, but three enourmous heads. Each bigger than Nagato's entire body, and each one was staring at him, Minato and the now-unconcious Kushina with great intent, malice and hunger.

'RUN!' yelled Nagato. Minato needed no encouragement, racing out across the lake, carrying Kushina before him. Nagato sprinted after them, and with an ear-splitting cry, the cerebrus gave chase. With four legs against two apiece, it quickly made up the distance gained by their headstart, and somebody had obviously trained it to use chakra, because it was racing at them across the lake as though it were solid ground, with a not inconsiderable amount of splashing.

'_Whoever trained this thing has some serious talent with animals_' Nagato thought, cutting off his revierie in time to jump over a crushing paw moving at sonic speed towards him. Leaping into the air, Nagato armed some of the fastest hand seals of his life. _Boar, Ox, Monkey, Eagle, Crane, Boar. _

'Fire-Style, Flame whip Jutsu!' he yelled. A great tongue of fire lept out from Nagato's outstretched hand. It lasted only for a brief moment, but in that time, the blazing whip slashed across the Beast's left head, popping both it's eyeballs with it's white-hot lash. The Cerberus howled in agony, thrashing about wildly in its unbearable pain. Nagato alighted on the surface of the water, and began arming seals again, desperate to exploit the opening he had created, he wasn't quite fast enough. Purely because a certain blonde genin beat him to it.

'Water Style! Hail of Daggers Jutsu!' Roared Minato, desperation and uncharacteristic fury enunciating his syllables. The water around them froze over in half a heartbeat, as though somebody had yanked down the thermostat on reality. Less than a second later, the ice shattered. Thousands of tiny icicled shot towards the great black dog like nature's own shotgun. Nagato barely avoided the deadly hail, the Cerebrus was less lucky. The creature's right head was shorn from it's body, disintegrated into a bloody mess by the eviscerating needles of ice. One head blinded, One head destroyed utterly. Only the beast's central cranium was left, going mad with pain and howling loud enough to deafen any normal man. But Nagato and Minato were made of sterner stuff than most, more so than most ninja even. This thing had hurt their friend. It would pay in blood, such was the way of the Shinobi.

The beast's middle head craned left and right, desperate for a means of escape, but none could be found. Determined at the last to duke it out to the finish, it rounded on the two shinobi. Minato laid Kushina down at the water's edge and stood side by side with Nagato. He'd done his last jutsu without arming seals: possible, but tiring on a scale you cannot imagine. Yet determination still smouldered in his eyes. Fighting for every breath, every muscle practically swearing with the pain, Minato armed seals as fast as he could. Nagato mirrored him. The Cerebrus lowered it's remaining heads and charged at them like a living battering ram, howling it's defiance. It was not enough.

'WATER-STYLE: TORRENT HANGMAN JUTSU!'

'WIND STYLE, WIND KATANA JUTSU!'

The water around the beast flared and shot upwards, knocking the great, tortured dog sideways. The torrent of water coaliesced into a single column, reaching around in mid air before plunging downwards. The water arm grabbed the dog's middle head around the throat, like Posidon's own personal noose, pulling it up above the water. Paws flailing madly, howling with what little oxygen it had reminaing, the beast was slowly being throttled by Minato's water jutsu, and powerless to resist Nagato's: As if god himself was urging the wind forward, the air around Nagato shimmered and shot formward, forming a single, massive blade, cutting cleanly through both of the beast's exposed necks like cheese-wire through butter. The decapitated fiend fell to earth, crashing into the lake with a grim crescendo of finality.

Minato collapsed against Nagato, panting for air. The scarlet haired shinobi grasped ahold of his friend, putting one of Minato's arms over his own shoulder for support. Nagato bore Minato to the lakeside as quickly as he could, setting the blonde ninja down beside Kushina, who was still unconscious. They sat there in silence for a few minutes; Minato collecting his breath, which came in ragged bursts. Nagato did a spot-check on Kushina, she seemed to be fine besides the arm, only minor bruising elsewhere, and she was breathing okay: she'd live, no doubt about it. He was more worried about Minato. There were bags under the blonde boy's eyes, as though he'd aged several decades in a few short minutes. The silence resumed for several minutes more, until Minato broke it by pulling himself to his feet.

'Okay, whatever I do in life. I'm never getting a pet!' he exclaimed, a smile returning to his face. Nagato laughed, despite everything that had happened in the three days since entering the maze, he laughed, long and heartily, and though he could not hear Minato over his own jubilation, he knew the blonde boy was doing exactly the same thing.

'Ready to go back to the other's?' chuckled Minato. Nagato calmed himself down, but just before he could nod, an idea struck him. It was weird, to be sure, and disgusting. But brilliant.

'Take Kushina and go ahead, come back for me in about five minutes, or whenever you get over the strain, whichever's first. I'll clean up the mess here.'

Minato nodded, but had several degrees of suspicion etched into his face. Saying nothing more, Minato took a firm hold of Kushina, and picturing the remaineder of their squad clearly in his mind, as though they were right before him: Minato vabished.

Nagato turned on the spot and strode out into the lake. As it turned out, it wasn't at all deep. Just above Nagato's head height. As such, the tip of the Dog's central head remained above the water, like a lone, corpse island. Placing a hand upon the dog's exposed snout, he intoned a few words, barely above a whisper. Nagato had been aware of the six paths within him for quite some time. But aside from Deva, had never used them, he knew not how. He guessed it was the sort of thing that just came to you on the spot, as though the Jinchuuriki of the ten tails: The sage of the Six paths, could not materialise itself through practice: merely inspiration alone.

'Animal Path: Contract of Undeath' Nagato whispered. The dog's submerged head glowed with an eerie white light, across the lake at various underwater points, the beast's body and other head did the same, they shone for a few brief moments like a newborn sun, before fading into non-existence, like the final, haunting notes of an opera melody. Nothing remained of the dog's body, only a single ripple, taking it's leisurely time across the lake's surface.

'I look forward to seeing you soon, my new friend.' Said Nagato, a grin playing across his face.

_Well, phew, that was hard work. My longest chapter yet! Trust me to aim at doing a short chapter in half a week, and instead take two weeks to do a big one. Please review: If you've ever wondered why Pein was ever able to summon a giant three headed dog in the manga. Now you know._

_Keep on reading and reviewing. I love to hear from you all _

_Next Chapter: From one Uzumaki to another: The Preliminary rounds begin!_


	6. Chapter 6: From one Uzumaki to another

_Ah! I overran again! Why am I so useless at timekeeping? Why, God, why? _

_Rant over, it feels good to get a new chapter up again. Apologies if there are any spelling or grammatical errors, my beta can never get his ass onto facebook for me to send him a copy to proof read, and I'm no good at it. If anybody wants to volunteer to beta read, let me know. God only knows I need it._

_Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto-sama...but the dub is better when LittleKuriboh does it!_

_Keep on reading and reviewing!_

_RFRG_

Chapter 6: From one Uzumaki to Another- The Preliminary rounds begin.

Toshiro sat slouched against the wall of the corridor, his face buried so far into his hands that it was hard to tell where his palm ended and his face began. This was just like luck. Trust him to be the one quietly sobbing into his hands, standing a pathetic guard over a badly wounded shinobi and an exhausted Kunoichi, neither of whom he knew very well at all, whilst Minato and Nagato were off risking their lives to save Kushina. As always, it was him that was on the sidelines, too scared to take the plunge. Never fully ready to leave the training wheels behind.

Toshiro remembered his first training session with Jiraiya, the day after he'd somehow graduated from the Konoha academy: Their sensei had set them against each other in a sparring session, and Toshiro had hidden behind Jiraiya, cowering whilst Kushina flew at Minato like a crazed, rabid animal, and beat him half to death. The raven haired Hyuuga had run off bawling when Jiraiya had called upon him to take on Kushina. It had been several hours before his teacher caught up with him, the great sage found him hiding under a tree staring up at the Hokage monument; the visages of the first three Hokage forever set in stone.

'_Hiruzen-Sensei hates that statue,' the sanin had said, sitting himself down next to Toshiro, planting a fatherly hand on the boy's shoulder, 'He doesn't like being reminded of how good he looked in his youth now that he's essentially a mummy.' Toshiro had managed a smile, but it had faded quickly. He hadn't gotten the chance to explain his problem, as though reading his mind, Jiraiya had done it for him, intoning his words with subtle hints of an anecdote._

'_I know how imposing it must be for you, having people like Kushina and Minato on your squad. Believe me, things aren't as bad as they look.'_

'_But sensei.' Toshiro's twelve year old voice was softer than a hummingbird's wing beats, as though each syllable would be washed away on the wind if it didn't have another one crammed in after it. 'Minato's been going on about being Hokage for years, he's been top of our class since the very beginning, everyone loves him...except Kushina...I'm scared of her...' the last phrase was so quiet that Jiraiya had to strain to hear it to the point of actually using chakra. 'What have I got, compared to them?' _

_Toshiro had felt the warm hand leave his shoulder at that point, Jiraiya shifted around to sit in front of the Hyuuga, a look of utter confusion written across the middle-aged Sanin's face. The white haired Jonin captured Toshiro's undivided attention, eyes locked on one another. The young boy had stared deep into the eyes of his sensei, drinking in the myriad emotions concealed within. _

'_You, Toshiro Hyuuga, have a heart of gold.' Came Jiraiya's answer, the sanin's face breaking into a wide smile, leaving the boy mystified. A heart of gold...him? What on earth did he mean? And what good would a heart of gold do a ninja anyway? Seeing the confusion in the lad's eyes, Jiraiya was quick to explain: 'Those in life that leap into the fight are the brave and the strong, this is true. But that is not to say that those who run are weak cowards, it just means they are gentle people. And gentleness is a feature that few in this Shinobi world possess, and we're at war because of it.' The light was beginning to dawn on Toshiro. Pressing his point home, Jiraiya continued, eager to dispense more of his limitless wisdom. 'Kushina and Minato have the potential to be brilliant Ninja. Minato is a natural leader, I can see it in his eyes. Kushina...well, Kushina seems like the sort of person you'd want on your side in a rough spot for certain, there's something more to her, buried deep, I can feel it...but either way, they have their faults.' Toshiro cocked a confused eyebrow at his teacher's comments, the others never seemed to have any faults from wherever he was standing. Jiraiya continued, 'Kushina is permanently on a hair- trigger, and Minato charges in without thinking. You have neither of those failings, therefore you make up for the shortcomings of your partners, just as they will make up for yours. That's why we select our Shinobi teams so carefully. You may not believe it, but your golden heart compliments your peers perfectly. You are the perfect unit, you just need to believe it for yourself.' _

Those memories were always what Toshiro turned to whenever he found himself like this. There was no shame in being the one guarding the wounded at the edge of the battlefield. If it's where you're most talented, be there. The knowledge that he was the glue that held his friends together was an unbelievable comfort to him, and never failed to bring a reassuring smile to his face.

'I'd bring more shame upon myself going off risking my life with Minato' said the Hyuuga to himself, somewhat absent from the world around him, 'If I got myself killed, who'd be there to piece that blonde knucklehead back together.'

Speak of the Devil and he shall appear. And thus Minato coalesced before the lavender-eyed boy, stepping out of the air in a flash of light, more sullen than its usual golden brilliance. Whatever Minato had gone up against, it had drained him utterly. Held tightly in Minato's outstretched arms, as though she was the most precious thing on the planet, a giant, priceless ruby of unparalleled beauty, was Kushina. Her arm was clearly broken in several places, and she looked generally worse for wear. It would take a while to get her on her feet again, time they did not have. Konan's unsteady voice broke the silence and shook Toshiro out of his reverie.

'W-w-where's Nagato?' she stammered, the after effects of sending out the better part of a dozen clones to search for Kushina a few minutes earlier had clearly not worn off yet. Minato gathered a few breaths, setting Kushina down gingerly against the wall before replying, his voice laden with a mixture of exhaustion and relief.

'He stayed behind, there was something he said he needed to do, dunno what though. I'm going back for him in a minute.'

Konan gave a small smile and reclined back against the wall, her head resting on Yahiko's shoulder. The ginger shinobi pretended to be asleep, but the hint of a smile creeping across his face was impossible to miss, as was his hand gently sliding over Konan's, gripping it reassuringly yet subtly.

Toshiro turned his attention to Kushina. Her arm would have to wait until they reached the maze's centre. If he stopped to heal it now, the time limit would run out, and then only god would know how long they'd be down here, if they ever got out. Grimacing at the necessity of leaving his compatriot so injured, Toshrio busied himself clearing up Kushina's various other bruises and scratches. Most were only skin deep, but the odd cut needed a chakra infusion to heal. Whatever had tried to savage her had clearly gotten bored quickly, and for that, Toshiro thanked the powers that be.

'Will she be okay?' came an uneasy voice behind Toshiro. They Hyuuga turned around, and his lavender eyes locked with Minato's sky-blue ones. The latter pair wracked with visible anxiety.

'She'll be okay Minato-kun, go back and get Nagato. I don't want to spend another minute in this godforsaken maze if I can help it.' The stern edge in Toshiro's voice surprised even himself. Taken aback by the bite in his compatriot's words, Minato nodded and vanished in his customary flash of golden light. Illuminating the corridor for half a second with it's restored brilliance, before being replaced by the flickering twilight of the dying lamps.

It didn't take Nagato long to realise that most of the other finalists clearly did not like him. Nine squads of Genin shinobi were packed into the large cylindrical room at the maze's centre, including his own and Minato's. That left twenty one pairs of eyes scanning the featureless stone room, taking it in turns to bore into his own Rinnegan pupils. There was the occasional look of awe, the odd glance of wonder. A small dark-skinned boy with a hidden cloud headband was staring at him with a respect that his aviators utterly failed to hide. But most looked down on him with admonishment, irritation, and in some cases, _hatred_. Nagato couldn't understand why for the life of him. He certainly hadn't gone out of his way to offend the Sand ninja he saw skulking in the back corner, so why was he levelling such a disgusted glance at not just him, but everyone in the room? Even his own teammates seemed fearful of meeting his gaze. Nagato repressed a shudder at the palpable malice emanating from the Suna Genin and gripped the scroll in his hand for comfort. He'd found it lying around by the underground lake after sealing the Cerebrus, who had likely devoured the squad previously carrying it.

_Rest in Peace. _Thought Nagato inwardly, before turning his attention back to the other shinobi in attendance. Kushina was back on her feet and beaming in awe at the sheer diversity of the ninja arrayed around her, the sling on her arm was the only indication she'd been injured at all. Nagato hadn't known the Uzumaki girl long, but he'd already developed a deep, profound respect for her. It was like looking at an (albeit more aggressive) female Yahiko, someone who was always able to bounce back, someone who could take all comers. When life dealt them a bad hand, it was people like Kushina that you could rely on to have all four aces tucked up their sleeve. It warmed Nagato's heart to see her smile again, after the agonising mess she'd been through earlier, but evidently not as much as it warmed Minato's. The blonde genin's face was its usual cocky mask, but Minato's oceanic eyes were drowned under so much positive emotion it was like personifying Christmas within his pupils. Toshiro looked uncharacteristically happy, straightened up to his full height, shoulders back, grinning from ear to ear to have come this far in one piece. Whether this was a front to impress the other qualifiers, or a genuine overhaul of personality, Nagato had no idea, but he desperately hoped for the latter. He liked Toshiro, but a lack of confidence was not going to get you anywhere in this exam. Yahiko and Konan stood off to one side, talking quietly, their voices inaudible over the excited babble of the other contestants. Nagato knew it would take him a minimal amount of chakra to pinpoint what his teammates were saying, but he decided against it. Since the exam began, Yahiko and Konan were becoming more of a unit unto themselves, and whether that unit was in any way amatory or not, Nagato knew he had no business within their conversation. If it was a discussion about the exam, they'd have included him. The red-head shook his cranium forcefully to shake out any ideas of what his friends topics of conversation might involve. He neither knew, nor wanted to in any capacity. It was then that Nagato noticed something. Something he chided himself for not spotting before, for how could he miss that? The door of the cylindrical hall had vanished, the walls were sinking rapidly into the floor from his perspective, and a deep bass rumble could be heard on the edges of his hearing.

The room was rising.

The atmosphere reached fever pitch as the assembled Shinobi cried out at the rapid elevation of the chamber. Some screamed, fearing they would be flattened against the ceiling. Other's chattered excitedly at whatever jutsu was propelling the floor skyward. Nagato did neither of those things. Instead, the red head grinned broadly from ear to ear, ready to take on his next challenge. He didn't even need to look to know all his compatriots were doing precisely the same thing.

The floor continued to rocket them upwards for several minutes, on and on, up the seemingly never ending cylindrical tower. Just when Nagato was thinking that they must be well over a thousand metres above ground by now, the lift stopped abruptly. The sudden deceleration knocking more than one genin onto their backsides, including a rather annoyed Yahiko, who began spouting a long stream of profanity, muffled somewhat by the fact he'd landed face-down. The room was shrouded in darkness, like a black veil had been thrown over reality, consuming it hungrily. Just as Nagato and the others had adjusted their eyes to the gloom, they were bombarded by a sudden, brilliant light. Nagato threw his arm in front of his face to block out the storm of..._sunlight?_ It shook Nagato to his core when he realised the glare was nothing more than the light of the summer sun, streaming in through the large doorway that had suddenly manifested itself within the wall. Eager to bask in natural light again after what felt like weeks in the twilit labyrinth, Nagato sprinted for the door, the mob of genin hot on his heels. Shooting out through the archway like a cheetah on steroids, Nagato hurtled into the welcoming daylight, throwing his arms wide in jubilation. They were out. Three days in the damp, sodden, barely lit, lethal corridors of that hellish labyrinth, and now finally they were free. And what a view!

Nagato found himself standing atop a massive platform with no rails, spanning the gap between two enormous skyscrapers. There was not a raincloud to be seen for once, and the entire hidden rain village was arrayed before them, miles below, like a colony of ants from the perspective of a god. And stood proudly at the epicentre of the platform; basking in his own personal ray of sunshine, stood their host.

Hanzo had foregone his usual battle attire, save for his ever-present rebreather mask. Instead he wore a cloak that looked as though it was woven from pure gold. Upon his torso he wore a ceremonial chest plate, this time _definitely_ hammered from the aforementioned precious metal, inlaid with intricate designs; battle honours won over the Rain leader's long and illustrious career as a Shinobi. Hanzo's trousers stood apart somewhat from the rest of his golden visage. He wore scarlet combat trousers, with diamond studs holding shut the pockets, completing his Apollo-esque image. When the lord of Ame spoke, his voice seemed to reverbate around the platform, like the very atmosphere was mimicking his every word. If Hanzo was trying to play God, he was doing a damn good job of it.

'Welcome Finalists!' For the second time in the last few days, Nagato found himself quietly awed by Hanzo's prescence, the man had mastered the art of being the centre of attention. He was a man you did not dare speak over, with every syllable he commanded your utter respect and undivided attention. Yet Nagato could not shake the notion that there was something off about Hanzo. Never in Nagato's life had he seen the lord of the Rain village make so many public appearances. Not even the war had gotten Hanzo out of his tower more than a handful of times. Something wasn't right. But Nagato found the rest of his thoughts washed away as Hanzo resumed speaking.

'You have all shown exceptional skill, tenacity and valour in coming so far. The labyrinth has brought out the best in the group, and the best from yourselves as individuals. But battles in the dark with your comrades at your back is one thing. This next round requires you to operate alone. The strength of the wolf may be the pack, but the strength of the pack is the wolf! In this round, the wolves must stand apart and shine as individuals. Each of you will be set against another finalist in a one-on-one battle. The first rule is that the last genin standing will be the victor...' there was a long pause, all eyes darting frenziedly between the lord of Ame, and all the other competitors, desperately seeking weaknesses in their potential opposition. 'The second, and only remaining rule, is that you may use any non-lethal means at your disposal. Violation of this rule, may result in you finding yourself excluded from the exam...and back on ground level rather..' Hanzo's eyes flickered to the edge of the balcony, 'rapidly.'

You could have heard a pin drop. Naught but the sound of the wind could be heard across the platform. Hanzo's last words had stunned all the ninja present into silence. You would have needed cheese wire to cut the tension. Cheese wire, or Yahiko.

'Well what are we waiting for then? Who's first?' he ginger boy cried, dragging all eyes away from Hanzo and upon him instead. Most would have wilted under the combined vision of nearly thirty genin and a village leader. But Yahiko was estabilished far above most people. His eyes were set harder than marble, his shoulders squared, hand on the kilt of his battle-forged katana. Had Nagato not been there, he would never have guessed that his friend had been laid low by Zabuza's blade. Hanzo grunted irritably at the intrusion into his carefully woven suspense. Without a word, he pointed towards the skyscraper behind him. Emblazoned upon the building was a giant computer monitor, slumbering in darkness. As though Hanzo's pointing had kicked it to life, names started to scroll lightning fast across the screen, as it randomised the finalists ready for the first preliminary bout. After several seconds of suspense, anxiety building within them faster than a bolt from a crossbow, the flickering words stopped, coalescing into two names:

_Nagato vs Sosuke_

It took Nagato several, dread ridden seconds to realise his name had been chosen. Meekly he took a step out from the crowd, aware of more than two dozen pairs of eyes boring into the back of his skull. He felt a prescence next to him, and turned to see the sand ninja who'd been death-glaring him in the lift. So this was his opponent. The man was tall, half a head taller than Nagato at least, and wore a long black cloak over a standard-issue Sand village flak jacket. His hair was the same colour as his own, but had dark purple roots, only going scarlet at the very tip, like a violet mace, dipped gentley into the blood of its victim. The boy must have been nineteen, or even twenty at the very least. _A late starter?_ Pondered Nagato, _or somebody who thought themselves too good to bother trying? _ Noting the young man's slightly slouched posture, hands in his pockets and arrogant, piercing eyes. Nagato strongly suspected the latter. He was not about to take this guy lightly, though he doubted the other man would extend him the same courtesy.

'All other finalists, proceed to the spectator's balcony, and await your turn to fight!' commanded Hanzo, inclining a gold-armoured hand to a wide balcony above the screen. The genin nodded collectively and filed past Nagato, Yahiko and Konan pausing to offer words of support and comfort.

'Just believe in your abilities, and be wary of his. Nobody's as good at thinking on their feet as you are Nagato.' Said Konan with a reassuring smile. Yahiko was far more blunt, slapping a firm, yet brotherly hand on Nagato's shoulder as he strolled past.

'Kick his ass into next week.'

'Duly noted old friend' smiled Nagato in reply.

If Sosuke heard them, he gave no sign, save for an indifferent grunt. His own teammates: a thin, weedy blonde man, and a disproportinatley fat, bald one avoided him like the plague. Their faces were blank, so whether their avoidance was out of respect or fear was uncertain. Again, Nagato suspected the latter.

Once every participant had made their way from the platform, Hanzo directed his two competitors to opposite ends and reminded them of the rules.

'There is no time-limit, and no technique is forbidden, so long as it is non-lethal. The last one of you standing shall proceed into the finals.' Both men nodded solemly, Nagato's hand finging it's way into his weapon-pouch on his leg, resting reassuringly on a handful of shuriken. He was going to have to be quick, and hit with everything he had from the get-go. Sosuke was obviously expecting him to overestimate his cockiness. Nagato had lost to Yahiko too many times in sparring matches to fall for that one. All Nagato needed was for Hanzo to call the start of the bout, and the blitzkrieg would come down hard.

'BEGIN!'

In the time it took fo r both men's hearts to beat once, Nagato had begun his assault: four shuriken darted from his hand towards his target, the weapons glowing with eerie blue chakra, lethal sapphires in a linear dance of death. Within an eyeblink after throwing them, Nagato armed a chain of seals, hands a blur of motion: _Crane, Tiger, Monkey, Ox. _

'Lightning Style: Eldritch Storm Jutsu!'

Arcs of Lightning shot out of Nagato's hand like a quarrel from a crossbow, wild, flaring, untamed, the spear of mother nature herself, gifted to humankind. The shuriken and lightning bolts raced each other to their target, who was stood, hands shoved into his pockets, a bored expression on his face. The weapons, manufactured and natural closed on their victim. The distance evaporating: Five metres, Four, Three, Two...

Faster than the eye could follow, a huge, golden wall seemed to grow from the gound between the two men, deflecting the shuriken and lightning with its glittering hide. Sosuke hadn't moved so much as an inch, save for the contemptuous grin that had materialised.

_Gold dust?_ Lamented Nagato inwardly, _points awarded for style and effectiveness_, _deducted for being a cocky git!'_ he had to add that last part. Yahiko would have never forgiven him otherwise.

The golden wall had formed a protective cocoon around his opponent, who still had not moved, or made any attempt to erase his cocky grin. Changing tactics on the spot, Nagato hurled himself forward, sprinting as fast as his legs would carry him. If he couldn't close the gap with a weapon, he would do it with his own body. He'd only covered half the distance between them when the gold dust uncoiled itself from around its owner and hurled it's glittering mass at him. At the last possible moment, Nagato dropped to his knees, sliding under the dust, which had coalesced into a giant golden lance. But even then he had to launch himself to the side mere seconds later, as the metallic shards dissipated from their solid form and rained down on him. Had Nagato tarried a moment longer, he would have been crushed under the weight. Sosuke visibly grimaced at his prey escaping, but never once uttered a syllable. Nagato tried once more to get in close, launching himself through the air, above the mostly dissipated dust lance. He never made it more than a metre. With a force harder than a golf club to the brain, the glittering particles shot skyward, slamming into the red head and swatting him from the air like a fly. The force of the blow sent Nagato reeling towards the platform edge, the young man scrabbled for purchase on the floor, the yawning abyss speeding closer. But it was like finding friction on wet glass. However at the last second, the golden wall appeared in front of him, faster than the speed of sound, giving Nagato one fleeting glimpse of the village, miles below him, before slamming into the solidified dust with a sickening crunch.

Agony flared across Nagato's body, as though every muscle was tearing itself apart. It took a supreme amount of effort and sheer will for the genin to clear his head of alarm bells and take stock of his injuries. Both his legs were definitely broken, he couldn't even attempt standing up, his arms had been jarred, but were operable, as was his neck. He shot an evil glance at his opponent, who was pealing with laughter.

'I suppose that was your idea of a non-lethal technique?' shot Nagato. _Come on, you can still win this if you get him monologing! _He needed time to think of how to combat Sosuke's seemingly impenetrable defence, and any time he could buy by conning Sosuke into a long speech about his own brilliance, would benefit him immensely.

Satsfied with his belly laugh, Sosuke drew back his head and acted exactly as Nagato wished.

'PATHETIC! ABSOLUTLEY PATHETIC!' roared the Sunagakure ninja, raising an accusing finger at Hanzo, who was still stood at the edge of the platform, resplendent in his golden livery. Like an uncaring god. 'If _this_ is the standard of ninja the hidden rain produces when I fear four the survival of your country.' If Hanzo even registered the comment, he gave no sign.

Meanwhile, Nagato was rifling through options in his head. He couldn't attempt to go faster than the dust, on account of having no workable legs. He couldn't avoid the golden particles, that had failed already. What could he do? Sosuke went on for a good five minutes proclaiming his brilliance to the world, it wasn't until the man realised his impassioned speech was having no effect, and thus began launching into a list of colourful insults, (some about Nagato, some about his mother, all to horrid to mention) that Nagato managed to formulate his plan. It was risky, he'd never attempted the technique before, but he had read extensively about it, from texts concerning the Sage of the Six Paths. It was his only hope. Why he hadn't thought of it earlier, he had no idea: When one's enemy has a powerful weapon, turn it against him. But it required precise timing...and for Sosuke to attack.

After running out of colourful insults, and realising they had amounted to nothing at all. Sosuke snarled and raised his clenched fist towards Nagato, without another word, the gold dust formed into it's spear formation again, though with a blunted edge. Much as he would have liked to kill this poor, wretched Ame sod, it would get him nowhere. With a barely-bothered gesture, Sosuke lauched the golden blade at it's target. It never landed.

'Deva Path: Almighty Push!' snarled Nagato with all the force he could muster. The invisible blast shook and shivered the golden particles apart, wrenching them into a haze of fine, glittering mist and blating them back around Sosuke in the process, enveloping him in a cloud of metal shards.

It was time to end this.

'Deva Path: Chibaku Tensei!' roared Nagato, like a wounded Lion, all the more fierce and deadly for his injury. The golden haze magnetised itself together, shooting inwards towards its epicentre, which so happened to be Sosuke. Nagato had one fleeting second to register the look of pure terror marring his opponent's cocky visage, before the wall of his own gold dust slammed into him. Crushing his body as much as possible without killing him. Something broke, followed by several other things. The golden prison dissipated after a heartbeat, it's job done, leaving Sosuke lying on the cold ground, limbs twisted at awkward angles, save for his neck and spine; breathing, but utterly unconscious.

'THE WINNER OF THE FIRST PRELIMINARY BOUT, IS NAGATO OF THE HIDDEN RAIN!' Hanzo's voice shattered the silence, followed by a cacophony of cheers from the spectators balcony. Nagato swivelled his eyes upwards, catching sight of Yahiko and Konan cheering like the possessed, before allowing himself the luxury of passing out.

Nagato awoke to find himself in a sparse, white room, with minimal furniture. He couldn't move, every nerve in his body felt warm and fuzzy, so whatever anaesthetic he was under hadn't completely worn off yet. But at least he was conscious and could think properly. He was lying, on a comfortable white bed, propped up by a mound of pillows, Nagato relaxed into them, allowing feeling to return to his extremities at their own pace. It was then that he became aware of another prescence within the room.

'Good going out there.' Came a female voice, it took Nagato several seconds to realise it was Kushina's. He turned to face her, she looked bright and cheerful, but the lines in her face suggested that she had been through a lot of stress. He didn't blame her, getting abducted by a giant canine monster, then watching a friend getting as badly injured as he did within an hour of recuperating from said abduction, was hardly your average run-of-the mill work.

'Thanks, thought I was a gonner, who the hell was that guy anyway?'

'The one in line to be the Fourth Kazekage apparently'

'Seriously? That cocky git's not even Chunin yet!' Shock permeated Nagato's voice.

Kushina shrugged and sat down next on the bed. 'His teammates told me that Suna lost most of their Jonin and Chunin in the war, what Jonin they have left are almost entirely crippled, amputees, or mentally damaged.'

Nagato nodded solemly, the war had cost the entire world a great price. Everyone either lost a loved one, or knew someone who had. _Rest in peace Mum and Dad,_ thought Nagato, fighting to keep tears from accumulating in his eyes. Kushina's voice shook him from his inner sorrow.

'You know what though? From one Uzumaki to another, I think the world needs to brace itself for our generation.' Nagato looked up into Kushina's eyes, they were warm and affectionate, but in a way Nagato had never seen before. It wasn't the look that Konan gave him, a constant friend who knows you by heart, nor was it the gaze she reserved for Yahiko, something deeper beyond words. Nagato came to the conclusion that this was the look shared only between siblings. He smiled, he'd never had a sister, not one related by blood. Not even a cousin, his parents were the only family he'd known. The realization that another from his clan had walked into his life was an unusual, yet powerful comfort. A broad smile crept across both their faces as the sun dipped below the horizon.

'Yeah,' agreed Nagato, his earlier sombre mood evaporated, 'the world's got another thing coming.'

_Phew...5000 words...help...so tired... fingers dying on keyboard...need...reviews...please...comment...subscribe...ect...ect...you're all awesome *falls asleep*_

_Next time (scrap the deadlines, i'll get it done when I can, watch this space)_

_Chapter 7: Eyes of lavender, heart of gold._


	7. Chapter 7:Eyes of Lavender,Heart of Gold

_Warning: I have done by best to edit out foul language from this fanfic, but I cannot legitimately include this character without it, I think you know who I mean. I've bent canon a bit to include him, but he is essential to the plot as a whole, so you'll have to grin and bear the language._

Chapter 7: Eyes of Lavender, Heart of Gold.

Jiraiya looked down from the spectator's balcony at the arena below. The sage had lost count of the bouts that had gone on since Nagato's defeat of the Kazekage's successor, his great mind was too preoccupied with concern for his wounded pupil. Hanzo had had a veritable army of Medical ninja see to both of the combatants the very moment the match was over, and all the reports looked positive. Broken bones, however many, were a walk in the park for Amegakure's medics, and for that Jiraiya was perpetually offering praise to the powers that be. The rest of his dual squad of students were pressed close to the window, taking in every detail of the battles raging below them, soaking up anything they could about their fellow competitors' fighting styles and weaknesses, should they have to face them in the next round.

'Your pupils seem to relish the fight ahead of them.' Came a calm voice next to Jiraiya. The sage looked to his left to see a tall boy of maybe seventeen, bearing a leaf headband below a mane of silver-white hair. The boy's eyes did not meet Jiraiya's, but stared out of the window absently. Jiraiya recognised that look, it was the gaze of one who was still in the aftermath of grief.

'You're Sakumo Hatake aren't you?' asked the Sanin inquisitively, yet carefully, 'The White Fang of the Leaf?' The boy nodded once, a thin wisp of a smile at the edge of his mouth. Now Jiraiya understood why the boy was so melancholic. 'I was sorry to hear about your sensei, he was a good man, my condolences.' Sakumo nodded again, meeting Jiraiya's eyes for the first time.

'Ginrei-sensei died as he lived, like a true warrior. I hope to live up to his example.' Came the melancholic voice again. Jiraiya raised his eyebrows at the comment.

'What? By dying like a hero?' he asked.

'No, by living like one, Lord Jiraiya.' Came the reply. Jiraiya nodded in admiration of the boy's spirit and took his gaze back to his own pupils, who were gathered around Yahiko as he gave a blow-by-blow colour commentary of the battle going on below.

'As I was saying, your pupils relish the fight before them. I don't know whether to be enthusiastic or afraid of it myself.' Came Sakumo's tired voice. Jiraiya laid a hand on the boy's shoulder and looked him in the eye, as he always did when offering moral support.

'In his life, Ginrei always spoke highly of you and your abilities. He was incredibly proud of his 'White Fang,' as is everybody in the Leaf who was heard your name. You have nothing to fear from this exam...Except my students of course.' Always strive to finish moral speeches with humour, that was a rule Jiraiya lived by, and it had always worked wonders on those he was speaking to. This was no exception: Sakumo genuinely smiled for the first time, but he didn't really get time to offer his thanks when the PA system cut him off, announcing the contestants for the next round. Jiraiya wasn't really listening, just vaguely listening out for any of the five remaining students under his tutelage. None of them were announced, but the look on Sakumo's face told another story.

'I must go, Lord Jiraiya, one of my squadmates is about to compete, thank you for your support.' And with a low bow, the Leaf's white fang disappeared into the crowd. The Sanin strolled over to the window to where his students were standing, placing bets on the victor of the next round.

'5 silver coins on the guy from the Hidden cloud' shouted Yahiko, pointing down at the dark-skinned ninja on the far side of the arena. The same one who he and Nagato had seen looking at them in the lift. The boy couldn't be more than ten years old at the most, with short, buzz-cut white hair and aviators. Across his back hung three or four short daggers. He looked quite a spectacle, even though he barely came up to Yahiko's shoulder.

'I'll take that bet.' Replied Minato, eager to patriotically defend the girl from the hidden leaf who stood on the near side to the viewing balcony. She had shoulder-length dark hair and eyes to match, which perfectly complimented her modest curves. Jiraiya chucked inwardly as he wondered whether it was patriotism or hormones making his star pupil take the woman's side. So hot was the debate between those assembled that none of them noticed Hanzo's announcement for the bout to begin...until it was all of three seconds too late.

'THE WINNER OF THE BOUT IS 'KILLER B' OF THE HIDDEN CLOUD!' roared Hanzo's amplified voice from his refereeing position.

'What!' came the synchronised reply of Jiraiya and everyone within the packed balcony. Nobody could believe their eyes, but there was the evidence. The match had lasted precisely 2.7 seconds, the woman from the leaf was sprawled on her back, clearly unconscious and sporting several major cuts across her upper-body. The pre-adolescent boy from Kumogakure was standing next to her unconscious form, arms raised, proclaiming his victory to the heavens.

'YOU CAN FLY LIKE A BUTTERLY, BUT NOBODY STINGS LIKE 'KILLER B'! FOOLS! YOU CAN SEE, THE VICTOR IS ME! NOBODY EVER BEATS THE HACHIBI JINCHUURIKI!'

'Well, at least he fights better than he raps.' Muttered Minato, while handing over the coins to Yahiko, who pocketed his spoils of war almost hungrily. The room was a wash of excited chatter, how had the kid managed to win so fast? What technique did he use, and did anybody see it? Questions in the same vein launched themselves around the room. But Jiraiya was far more preoccupied with the victory speech of the boy in question. _He was a Jinchuuriki? And not just any, but the host of the Eight Tails?_ The bar had just been raised dramatically.

Down in the arena, the boy called Killer B had hoisted his opponent up in a fireman's lift and carried her inside the building. Yahiko recalled the admiration he had seen in the boy's eyes in the lift; a gentleman as well as a warrior evidently, the perfect balance of Yin and Yang. After a handful of minutes, the doors to the viewing balcony opened, and the afformentioned boy appeared, the Konoha Kunoichi he had defeated with such ease still slung over his shoulder. Even though she was older, larger and better built than him, the boy carried her weight as though she were a feather, or a speck of dust that had deigned to rest upon his shoulder, taking a break from its gliding on the wind. Killer B laid her down upon the floor gently, took a cloth out of a pouch on his leg and started to clean her cuts. One by one, all the shinobi present conglomerated over to watch the spectacle, wishing to share in the boy's unusual kindness, be it for the sake of their karma, or just because. In fact, after five minutes, all the genin in the viewing gallery were gathered around their wounded competitor, all save one.

The sole person in the room not caring to aid in the girl's recovery was a tall boy, of maybe fourteen, with slicked back hair that shone with a silvery-blonde radiance, as though the hair itself had been unable to decide on its hue and had opted for both. He wore a headband around his neck bearing the symbol of the Village Hidden in the Steam, along with some kind of pendant, a triangle within a circle. Yahiko had no idea what it could be as he looked the boy over, but he found himself rather less distracted by the boy's taste in jewellery than he was by the disproportionately sized scythe strapped to his back. It was the colour of the sunset, but much less inviting. It's single blade looked sharp enough to slice a man in twain with only the most meagre of effort. But what made the boy most unnerving was his smile. He bore a permanent sickly grin that could give the most hardened of men nightmares, in fact, scratch that analogy. It was a grin that was designed to give men nightmares and pleasure itself on of it. Yahiko shuddered and forced his eyes away from the repulsive boy and back to the feebly stirring girl from Konoha. The boy Yahiko had seen talking to Jiraiya was kneeling beside her, holding her hand. _What was his name? Sakumo, that was it!_ Thought Yahiko. The white fang was doing his best to comfort his wounded comrade, and assuage her worries at having lost the match.

'It's alright Shizune, you win some you lose some.' Was all the words Yahiko managed to catch. The girl smiled slightly and allowed Sakumo to pull her to her feet, she wobbled unsteadily, but the Hatake boy had a tight arm around her, that is, until the PA system roared again.

_Sakumo Hatake versus Haizen of the Hidden Sand._

'S'alright bro, i'll take care'o yo friend, s'the least I can do man' came a voice, Sakumo turned around to see Killer B, the ten year old was proffering his hand towards Shizune, accompanying it was a warm smile, which the Kunoichi mirrored. Nodding his acceptance, Sakumo left for the arena below, whilst B lead his new companion over to where Yahiko and the others were standing. Jumping at the chance to be social for once, Toshiro greeted the newcomers.

'Awesome match, I've never seen anybody move so fast!' B shrugged modestly, and offered a warm glance to his defeated opponent.

'I had to man, otherwise the lady woulda' ran my ass over, an' Killer B has a reputation to maintain.' Shizune smiled at the compliment but remained silent, gradually, this silence crept over everyone as they watched Sakumo enter the arena below them. The crowd watched, breath baited, as though their lungs were in love with the oxygen already contained within, unwilling to let it go. The silver-haired Shinobi took his position across from his opponent: a disproportionately fat ninja in his late teens who towered over Konoha's white fang. David had stepped up to meet Goliath. Haizen eyed his opponent contemptuously. He wasn't going to fall into the same trap that had claimed Sosuke earlier, victimisation by one's own bragging. Instead, the massive Suna genin reached for his weapon, an ornately crafted hammer which hung lazily at his side. The weapon's head was as big as it's owner's own, and was emblazoned with the image of a massive lion. This was a weapon that threw subtlety to the dogs...and then brutally killed the dogs for good measure. Sakumo, was by contrast, standing with his shoulers slouched, forcing uncaring hands into equally apathetic pockets.

'BEGIN!' Roared Hanzo from his perch between the two contestants. Without further warning, Haizen took a lumbering step forward, followed by another, then another, gaining momentum slowly until he was running at full sprint towards Sakumo, war-hammer held high above his head. Still Sakumo hadn't moved. Attempting to anticipate his opponent's movements, Haizen lowered the hammer, holding it out in front of him to narrow the gap between him and Sakumo, and to give him swinging room if his opponent moved at the last moment. The void between them was being eated up, ten metres, nine, eight, seven...six...

Faster than a thunderclap, Sakumo's hand's shot from their pockets and armed the fastest set of seals that Toshiro had seen in his life, failing utterly to follow their motion from his perch on the balcony, even with his Byakugan.

'LIGHTNING STYLE, LIGHTNING LANCE!' roared Sakumo, extending an arm in front of him. The technique lasted for only a moment, but what a moment it was. Out from the tips of Sakumo's fingers shot a long spear of brilliant blue-white light. The unearthly weapon hurtled towards Haizen in under a second, striking the larger man clean through the shoulder and out the other side. At first, nothing happened, the juggernaut from Sunagakure continued to plough onwards like a freight train, but then the huge man stumbled, tripping over his own feet, as though they had lost all connection to his brain. The great hammer flew from his hands, over the side of the arena platform, spiralling down aimlessly through the clouds below, and with a resounding crash of utter finality, Haizen hit the ground, face down, skidding to a halt at the feet of his bester.

'The Winner of the Bout is Sakumo Hatake, of the Hidden Leaf!' the crowd went wild. In fact, 'wild' didn't remotely do it justice. They'd seen two epic victories within five minutes. Two wins within seconds apiece. This was ninjutsu at it's finest. As though not noticing the whooping and cheering of the spectators, that was surely causing a disturbance in the village miles below. Sakumo turned on his heel and left, producing a small novel from his pocket as he did so.

'How the hell did he do that?' muttered Toshiro, dumbstruck. This exam was unearthing some of the finest ninja he'd ever laid eyes on from within the ranks of its competitors, and a nagging voice in his head was quietly doubting whether he could match up to them.

'Remember your golden heart' came a sagely voice next to Toshiro, the latter wheeled around to see who had interrupted his train of thought, who else but his sensei. Jiraiya winked knowingly at his student, conveying a lifetime's worth of support and care with a single flexing of the eyelid. The Sanin knew when to pick his moments. Dramatic timing was a keenly refined artform to the Toad Sage.

'Toshiro Hyuuga vs Hidan of the Hidden Steam!' roared Hanzo's amplified voice. Thanking whatever powers may be for Jiraiya's timely support, Toshiro shook the hands of his friends and made his way into the lift to the arena. _This is my chance to prove myself_ smiled Toshiro inwardly. As the lift doors opened, Toshiro strode out into the arena, heart beating fiercely in his chest like an wild prairie wolf, howling at the moon. A _ping_ behind him made Toshiro jump, turning around, he saw the second competitor lift open, revealing the scythe-armed boy he'd seen earlier, still bearing that ungodly smile that Toshiro imagined could kill a lesser man at point blank range with no need of extra weaponry. The youngest Hyuuga grimaced inwardly, but let nothing show on his face, setting his features in the grim battle-mask of his clan, utterly focussed and emotionless. No enemy could smell the fear of a Hyuuga, not now, not ever.

Toshiro took his place on the far side of the arena, carefully measured steps carrying him onwards, head held as high as possible without showing arrogance, hands tightly gripping the kunai in his weapon pouch. It would take more than a golden heart to win this fight, but as long as he has that, he couldn't lose by much.

'Let's get this over with, I don't have all fucking day.' Snarled Hidan, rolling his eyes towards the heavens. 'And neither does Lord Jashin.' Toshiro had no idea what on earth the foul-mouthed boy was on about, but took it under advisement. If he wanted a quick finish, then Toshiro would pull out all the stops from the very beginning.

'BEGIN!' roared Hanzo for the third time in the last fifteen minutes. No sooner had Toshiro heard the words, than he leaped forwards, drawing three kunai and launching them towards his target. Caught off-guard, the arrogant steam ninja parried the projectiles with his scythe, but Toshiro's plan had worked, Hidan was off balance, the chakra points at his neck, solar plexus and right leg were exposed. As his opponent swung his brutal weapon in a deadly but suicidally slow arc, Toshiro leaped over it and activated his Byakugan. It was time to unveil the trademark weapon of his clan.

'Eight Trigrams, 64 Palms!' spat Toshiro with contempt, whoever fought so clumsily with such a massive weapon was clearly unfit to be a ninja, and he would remind them of that painfully. Without pause for thought, Toshiro hurled a set of carefully measured jabs to the chakra points across Hidan's neck and torso: 8...16...32..6F PALMS! Roared Toshiro like a lion cub, eager to prove it had come of age and was worthy to take its place in the pride. Hidan flew backwards several feet, landing on his back, his scythe clattering to the ground in front of him. Landing on the balls of his feet, Toshiro felt a warm wet liquid sliding amiably down his arm. Chancing a look, he realived it was his own blood, coursing lazily from a small gash in his shoulder that the scythe had rent as it flew past him. It wasn't too deep, nothing he couldn't handle. What really scared him at this point though was the fact that his white-haired adversary was picking himself up, laughing his head off, like a hyena subjected to laughing gas.

'HAHAHAHA! OH LORD JASHIN THIS IS FUCKING BRILLIANT!' cried Hidan, clutching his side to hold in his laughter, seemingly unaware of the major chakra damage he'd just been dealt. In fact, had Toshiro not dealt the blow himself mere seconds ago, he would have sworn that nobody had attacked him at all.

'A WORTHY SACRIFICE AT LAST! FINALLY! FUCKING FINALLY!' this shook Toshiro to the core, what could he mean by 'sacrifice?' Afraid he knew the answer, Toshiro took a great leap backwards, eager to put as much distance between himself and this crazed zealot. Toshiro settled into a low crouching stance, ready to pounce if the still-laughing madman dared to come within ten metres of him. It wouldn't be quite so hilarious then.

As Hidan's eyes locked on Toshiro's, the former pulled a long blade out from inside his robe. Black as midnight and forged from steel that carried all the warmth of a graveyard. Hidan held it lovingly in his fist, relishing what was to come almost as much as he relished the growing look of confusion on his opponent's face. From across the arena, the raven haired Hyuuga watched, with creeping terror, as Hidan's skin faded to a deep black, engraved with bone-white skeletal designs across his face and torso, visible through his opened robe. It was like facing a man who's flesh was on the inside of his bones, a horrible twisted form of skeleton. Toshiro realised that it was no longer Hidan's eyes he was staring into, but those of death itself personified.

'It's been fun little Hyuuga, it really has. Nobody has caught me off guard like that before, not since my academy days. How fitting that my first sacrifice to Jashin-sama be my most worthy opponent.' The devil boy licked his lips menacingly, raising the blade above his head, and angling it towards his own heart. _He can't be..._began Toshiro inwardly, but it was too late.

'DEATH BLOOD POSSESION JUTSU!' screamed Hidan ecstatically, as he drove the blade through his own heart. Nothing happened for half a second, then pain coarsed through Toshrio's entire body, overflowing his nerves with pure, unadulterated agony. It was as though Armageddon had come, and concentrated itself entirely within his body. Toshiro collapsed onto his knees, vision blurring as his body desperately tried to fight the pain. His chest felt like something was trying to knife it's way through him from the inside. His vision came in bursts. He saw the blurred form of Hanzo stepping between him and his opponent, vaguely heard the Rain Lord's voice condemning Hidan for his use of a lethal technique. His half-working eyes watched in awe and wonder as the very ground beneath Hidan's feet opened up, watched the malicious Steam Genin fall through the void, with nothing but the clouds to slow his deadly descent to the village below. Then the world went black, leaving Toshiro alone in the darkness, with nothing but the unsteady, agonised beating of his heart and the last echoes of Hidan's still ecstatic laugh as he fell into oblivion, for company.

Jiraiya held his head in his hands and sobbed, offering up prayer after prayer that his youngest student, lying prone and peaceful in the bed in front of him, would live through the night. _What a failure I am,_ the toad Sage cursed himself inwardly, _I didn't prepare him for anything like this level of pain, I failed him, I've left him to die..._

'We all make mistakes Jiraiya.' The sage jumped out of his seat, he knew exactly who the voice belonged to, he just wondered how the hell his old comrade managed to keep sneaking up on him like this.

'Not many make screw-ups this big Orochimaru.' Sobbed the Sannin. The serpentine ninja got down from the perch he had been occupying on the windowsill of the medical ward and laid a hand on his friend's shoulder, mirroring the movement he had always seen Jiraiya reserve for those he cared about. Choosing his words carefully, Orochimaru spoke, weighing every syllable on his overly large toungue.

'The thing about mistakes, old friend, is that we learn from them.' The snake sannin quickly backtracked under the withering gaze of his compatriot, desperately trying to assuage his worries for his dying student.

'The other thing, Jiriaiya, is that there is usually a way of righting our mistakes.' A look of confusion spread across Jiraiya's face, but underneath that, Orochimaru spied a tiny slither of something else. An emotion that Jiraiya was desperately holding out for, but determined not to give in to: Hope.

'Y-you have a way of fixing Toshiro?' The Sanin asked timidly, when Orochimaru nodded, he launched into a tirade about why his oldest friend hadn't already done it, and why had they wasted time talking when his youngest student was slowly losing his life on the table next to them.

'It's risky, I have never tried the technique before old friend.' The golden eyed man was starting to backtrack, perhaps what he had in mind was too much of a risk to take. But seeing the desperation in his old friend's eyes, he took his position next to Toshiro's silent form.

'There is no guarantee he will survive, but if this works, he should be in peak condition very soon. If it does not, he will die.'

'He'll die for sure if he stays here untreated, Oro, you're my last hope.' The final plea was too much for Orochimaru. The serpent-man selected the spot of Toshiro's neck that would give him the best access to his bloodstream.

'What is this technique anyway?' Jiraiya questioned. Desperate though he was for his student to survive, he had to make sure of what he was getting into.

'The Cursed Seal.' Replied Orochimaru, before biting down on Toshiro's vulnerable neck.

_OMG! Sorry that took so long, I am literally on my exam week and I've either been partying or revising all these last few weeks, I mean come on, it's been Christmas and new year, what did you expect. Anyway, after a month's hiatus, Amegakure is back! Please read and review. I'll start working on chapter 8 as soon as my exam period is over. I'm not sure this chapter is my best work, but if it isn't, blame exam stress. I needed to get this chapter up or the fic would have died of writing asphyxiation. Check out my Gears of War fics if you haven't already!_

_Keep on reading, Happy New Year_

_RFRG_

_Next time: Revelations and Redheads_


	8. Chapter 8: Revelations and Redheads

_Sorry I've been so slow on the update, A-Levels plus a Skyrim addiction are massive demands on my time, but in the case of the latter I'm trying to break the habit after losing a whole week of my life. I've noticed support for this fic has tailed off, and I know that's my fault, so I'm going to try and get back into the habit of updating at least once every 2 weeks, as I have a mountain of schoolwork to do and I have my Gears fic that I'm also working on. Don't give up on me yet people, I haven't given up on you _

_I know this chapter is a lot smaller than the others, I'm gonna refocus my writing into this-sized instalments, 7000 word chapters are murder, and I want to survive to see this fic ended. Whenever it does end. Writing is becoming a slight chore, so please read and review. Need all the support and feedback I can get._

Chapter 8: Revelations and Redheads.

Kushina dropped to one knee, and fought against her own body to get oxygen into her system. Every nerve within her screamed in protest at even the slightest of movements, every twitch of a finger, toe or eyelid sent sharp tingles cascading through her body. By contrast, her opponent seemed to be in top form, hopping from foot to foot, kunai in hand, ready to drop her when she next made the mistake of attacking. The match had gone on for several minutes, and the fair haired Sunagakure genin had thwarted her at every turn, she hadn't so much as scratched him. Every time she lunged at him, exploited an opening or attempted to break his guard, he countered it expertly, as though he could read her every move before she'd made it. She looked her opponent up and down, taking in every detail of her adversary, begging the powers that be for something she could use to her advantage. She knew of Jutsu's that could allow a person to read the immediate future, or anticipate a person's movements, The Sharingan for instance, but she could see no such Kekkei-genkai about the boy before her, his eyes were a deep blue, like Minato's, likewise did his hair remind her of her squadmate, excepting that her adversary wore his hair in a long flowing mass down his back. On top of it's elegance, it made for a useful weapon, as he'd managed to blind her temporarily at the beginning of the fight, with just a flick of his head. Gathering what oxygen she could, she armed seals as fast as her arms would allow.

'Fire Style: Fireball Jutsu!' she cried, somewhat breathlessly, shooting forth a great jet of flame from between pursed lips at nobody in particular: only empty space remained where her opponent had stood not half a second before. Before Kushina could begin to marvel at her opponent's speed, a savagely strong cross-punch to her exposed stomach sent her reeling, laying her out flat on her back, gasping to get air into lungs that refused to obey her. Her opponent stood over her, gazing down with heavy lidded eyes: The battle had clearly taken more of a toll on him than he had previously shown. Usually, this was the point in the battle when the one backed to win began boasting, but even as Kushina braced herself for a stream of references to her inferiority, still trying to force air down her rebellious windpipe, she could see a melancholic frown paint itself across her adversary's face. When he spoke, his voice seemed heavy, yet oddly soft-spoken for a Shinobi; it seemed to her that chivalry was clearly not restricted to underdogs.

'It would be easier for us both if you surrendered.' He intoned, pulling his mouth into the resigned half-smile-half-grimace of someone who is sure of victory, but regrets it's circumstances. 'I don't want to hurt you unnessecarily.' As if to reinforce the moment of attempted camaderie, the sun took an experimental peep out from behind the clouds that had formed over the late-evening sky, bathing the fallen kunoichi and her soon-to-be-defeater in a ray of incandescent sunlight. Kushina blinked hard, forcing a hand deprived of oxygenated blood up to cover her eyes, as the light reflected off of her enemy's Sand-ninja headband, temporarily blinding her. Desperate for a sight that would not rob her of her vision, Kushina's eyes darted downwards, coming to rest on the foot of her opponent. It was then that it hit her. The scarlet-haired kunoichi mentally slapped herself for failing to notice beforehand. _Always watch for your opponent's weaknesses_, the second rule that had been stamped into her at the academy, right after _Don't hold the Kunai by the pointy end._ She chastised herself inwardly for having forgotten it. Now all she needed was a distraction.

'You're defiance does you credit, but this is over, surrender and I promise…' The handsome blonde genin never got to finish his sentence, as his left foot, the object of Kushina's attention, the limb on which he'd placed the majority of his weight, was grabbed nd yanked out from underneath him by the fiery female, sending him sprawling forwards. The Sunagakure genin face-planted the floor with the force of a buffalo-stampede, forced downwards by the sudden presence of a rather irate leaf kunoichi on his back, pinning him in a savage arm lock.

'And that,' exclaimed Minato, as Kushina returned to the viewing balcony a few minutes later, smiling victoriously, 'is why you never make a target of yourself to an Uzumaki.' Kushina's smile grew broader, and she pulled Minato into a tight hug, burying her grinning face into his shoulder, leaving her with a sense of comfort and joy, and Yahiko with an unobstructed view of Minato's rapidly-reddening face. Before the blonde prodigy had made up his mind as to where to put his hands however, she pulled away again. To an untrained eye, Minato looked no different than normal, but Yahiko had no difficulty noticing the flecks of disappointment in his newfound friend's eyes.

'Come on,' called Kushina, already racing for the doorway to the medical wing, 'The preliminaries are finished for the day, we should go check on Nagato and Toshiro!' The others nodded and followed suit. Jiraiya had appeared just under an hour ago to tell them that Toshiro's condition was stable. But the perverted Sannin had disappeared just as quickly, and there had been something about him that was disturbing, his eys had refused to rest on anyone, always darting to an unoccupied spot around whoever he was addressing, and his face seemed parched, like colour had only just returned to it. Something was amiss and now that they had the opportunity to find out, none of them were going to pass it up.

Nagato shot awake at the sound of his friends bursting through the medical bay doors, and couldn't suppress a groggy chuckle at the mass of legs, arms and oppositely coloured hair on the floor. The chuckle turned into a whole hearted laugh as Yahiko and Konan picked themselves up from the floor, looking like orange and blue topped tomatoes, the pair were thankfully spared from their awkwardness by Minato and Kushina appearing behind them. No words needed to be said as to their purpose, anybody with the vaguest knowledge of body language could have pinpointed it in moments.

'Toshiro's in there' said Nagato, indicating a curtained off bed by the window, 'But he's asleep, the Medics haven't removed the curtain yet, but he was talking about twenty minutes ago, even if I couldn't see him.'

'Sounds okay to me', nodded Minato, adopting a false air of naivety. Something was still wrong, that much could be read in Nagato's eyes; their deep, hypnotic rings were a mask for anxiety, like a sedated beast inside a cage. But something told Minato that just going along with it for the moment was for the best, putting an arm around Kushina, and drowning out her protests with promises of Ramen, the blonde Genin turned on his heel and left, taking his scarlet friend with him. Yahiko fixed Nagato with a knowing look, raising an eyebrow in silent communication with his bond-brother. Feeling pinned, Nagato turned to Konan, fixing her amber eyes with his own in a silent plea.

'_Trust me,' _he moaned silently. Konan nodded once, and took Yahiko's hand in her own, giggling a little as his face resumed its previous tomato-esque visage. Pausing only to take in the look of unconditional gratitude on Nagato's face, she gently led a less-than-convinced Yahiko from the room. As the door shut behind her, with its ominous _click_ of finality, Konan could not held but marvel at what must have been brought to play to make Nagato lie to his friends. But then a thought occurred to her, bringing a coy smile with it. Whatever horrible event it was, she had it to thank for some time alone with Yahiko, the others long since having taken off for the nearest Ramen stand.

'Come on, let's head up to the roof!' she exclaimed

''Wait..why the r….' was all Yahiko managed to respond with before he was hauled off by the sapphire-haired, honey-eyed kunoichi.

Nagato waited until the staccato thump of footsteps had ebbed away down the hall before he allowed himself to exhale.

'Thanks.' Came a weak, strangled whisper from behind the drawn curtains opposite him. Slowly the veils parted, revealing a very much awake Toshrio propped up against his pillows. Or at least, something that looked like Toshiro. It wasn't the first time that Nagato had seen the Hyuuga genin since Orochimaru had performed the Cursed Seal upon the boy, but that didn't stop goosebumps from rolling up Nagato's spine as he saw what lay before him in the opposite bed, flanked by a somewhat guilty-looking Orochimaru, and Jiraiya, who was somewhere between happiness and grief.

Toshiro's skin, which had been pale enough in the first place, was know marble-white, as though the colour in his being had not so much been drained, but had never existed. His fingers ended in ebony talons, each at least two inches long, and diamond-hard, his hair had grown to some three or four times its normal length, cascading down his back. But the most unsettling things were his eyes, each was a dun-yellow, devoid of even the blank, lavender iris of his Byakugan, leaving nothing save for the turning of his head to signify where the poor boy was looking. Each eyeball was reduced to a lifeless orb, radiating sickly, vomit-coloured light across his plane of view. Only the expression on the boy's face: lips drawn into a half-smile and eyebrows raised in a gesture of thanks, gave any sign that the creature before him was still fundamentally the same being that had nervously asked Konan to teach him origami over a bowl of Ramen , not five days previously.

'The transformation will stabilise within a few hours' began Orochimaru, rubbing the back of his alabaster-white neck, 'so his appearance should resume it's normal image, I can't know for sure what the side effects will be, it's relatively untested…' Orochimaru paled under Jiraiya's menacing glare, and hastened to add, 'But I do know he will stabilise, that much has always proven true in my experiments.' Seemingly satisfied with the answer, Jiraiya resumed looking at his shoes, until his oldest companion spoke again.

'However, unfortunate though this turn of events is, there is an upside…sort of…' Jiraiya looked at Oro pointedly, letting his face silently show that he was reserving judgement. Treading carefully, Oro continued, 'I have been doing some, shall we say, field research into the comings and goings of our dear friend Hanzo of the Salamander, and I need an accomplice for the final stage of my…' But Jiraiya was already on his feet.

'He get's brutally assaulted in the Arena, loses his place in the Chunin exam, gets left lying in bed in agony while his body mutates into a damned Monster, AND NOW YOU WANT TO SEND HIM ON A MISSION, cus what? His condition is convenient for you? WHAT THE HELL OROCHIMARU! WHAT THE FLAMING HELL IS GOING THROUGH YOUR SERPENT BRAIN THAT MAKES YOU THINK….' But a soft, barely audible whisper from between them silenced the enraged Toad Sannin.

'What ….do you…. need me for…Lord Orochimaru?' Every few syllables were a struggle, as though his throat would not obey him, but the youngest fighting Hyuuga still managed to cough them out. Stunned into silence, Jiraiya slumped into his chair, defeated. The Snake ninja gulped a few unsure mouthfuls of air before continuing, keeping one slit-like eye rested firmly on his seething comrade.

'I need somebody to help me infiltrate Hanzo's tower, somebody who won't be missed at the Chunin exam, who's abilities are above those of Hanzo's guards. I believe that Toshiro's elimination from the preliminary rounds, along with the added abilities of the curse mark make him ideal for the job.' Jiraiya's only response was silence. He hated to put his students in over their heads, any more than he had done so already. The image of Hidan's skeletal, sadistic face as he remotely gutted Jiraiya's youngest student, would haunt the Sage for years, he was sure of it. But even then, he couldn't fault Orochimaru's logic.

'I'll…do it…Orochimaru-sama.' Croaked Toshiro, casting a lifeless eye towards Jiraiya in an attempt at comfort. The pale eyes found the black, and even though the former looked devoid of life, the latter could still see the courage within, like a lion, daring the world to rattle the bars of its cage. Jiraiya nodded once in grudging acceptance. From across the room, Nagato gulped. He'd only been half awake when Orochimaru had used the Curse-Sealing Jutsu upon Toshiro, and he'd spent every moment since unable to return to his dreamlike state. His body was crying out for rest, to recharge its metaphorical batteries, but always he could see the vampirically pale eyes of the tortured Hyuuga, even when he tried to shut his own. Nagato had been sworn to secrecy about Toshiro's condition, at least until it was stable, and the Uzumaki knew that that promise would be unbearably hard to keep. Nagato cast his thoughts to his two squadmates, and rolled his eyes as he remembered Yahiko's bemused face as he was hauled bodily from the room moments before. His oldest friends hadn't nabbed a moment alone since Yahiko's run in with Zabuza, and something told him that Konan would be desperate to make the most of it. Allowing himself a small smile, Nagato returned his attention to the frail form in the opposite bed. The haggard, mauled face that barely resembled Toshiro Hyuuga forced it's mouth to twitch at the edges in an attempt at a smile. Nagato nodded and closed his eyes, comfortable at last. His final thought before drifting off into the sleep that had until now eluded his clutches, was that somewhere under the malformed flesh and dead eyes: his newest friend was thinking exactly the same thing.

_AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND Sub-plot no-jutsu! _

_Sorry I keep taking so long, I'm still alive don't worry, as is this story. The upcoming chapters will focus on Konan and Yahiko rather than Nagato, stuck as he is in Hospital. If at any point Toshiro seems in danger of becoming a Mary-Sue, please tell me, so I can round off his character. Minato and Kushina are in for some characterisation as well, as I need to insert a softer side to Kushina. _

_Please read and review, and for all those who subscribed, don't hate me for taking so long. _

_Much love to anybody who subscribes, or who already has._

_RFRG_

_Next Time: Atop The Wings of an Angel_


End file.
